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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


BY 

JOHN  KENNETH  TURNER 


CHICAGO 

CHARLES  H.  KERR  & COMPANY 
CO-OPERATIVE 


PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


Since  the  publication  of  the  first  edition  of  this  book 
less  than  four  months  ago  both  the  prophecies  which  it 
embodies  have  been  fulfilled.  On  page  10  I say  that 
Mexico  “is  on  the  verge  of  a revolution  in  favor  of 
democracy and  on  page  267,  that  “The  United  States 
will  intervene  with  an  army,  if  necessary,  to  maintain 
Diaz  or  a successor  who  would  continue  the  special  part- 
nership with  American  capital.” 

As  this  is  written,  nearly  30,000  American  soldiers  are 
patrolling  the  Mexican  border  and  American  warships 
are  cruising  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mexican  ports. 
Though  not  a soldier  may  cross  the  line,  though  not  a 
vessel  may  fire  a shot,  this  is  effective  intervention  all  the 
same.  The  confessed  purpose  is  to  crush  the  revolution 
by  cutting  off  its  source  of  supplies  and  by  preventing 
patriotic  Mexicans  residing  in  the  United  States  from 
going  home  to  fight  for  the  freedom  of  their  country. 

The  action  of  President  Taft  in  mobilizing  the  troops 
was  taken  without  regard  for  the  wishes  of  the  American 
people  and  without  due  explanation  to  them.  The  action 
of  the  troops  in  seizing  revolutionist  supplies  and  arrest- 
ing revolutionist  recruits  is  not  only  against  every  tradi- 
tion of  political  liberty  upon  which  this  nation  is  supposed 
to  be  based,  but  it  is  unlawful  and  criminal  and  punish- 
able under  the  laws  of  the  States  by  fine  and  imprison- 
ment. It  is  not  a crime  against  any  federal  or  state  law 
to  ship  food,  or  even  arms  and  ammunition,  into  Mexico 
with  the  open  intention  of  selling  them  to  the  revolution- 
ists. It  is  not  a crime  against  any  federal  or  state  law 
to  go  from  the  United  States  into  Mexico  with  the  open 
intention  of  joining  the  revolution  there.  Without  a 
formal  proclamation  of  martial  law  the  military  author- 
ities have  no  right  to  exceed  the  civil  laws  and  when 
they  do  so  they  are  liable  to  fine  and  imprisonment  for 
unlawful  detention. 

Martial  law  has  not  been  proclaimed  on  the  border. 
Every  day  the  military  authorities  there  are  violating 


6 


PREFACE. 


the  laws.  But  the  civil  authorities  are  cowed,  the  people 
are  cowed,  and  the  victims,  Mexican  or  American,  seem 
to  have  no  redress.  By  fiat  of  the  executive  law  and 
civil  authority  have  been  subverted  and,  as  far  as  the 
Mexican  situation  is  concerned,  the  United  States  has 
been  turned  into  a military  dictatorship  as  sinister  and 
irresponsible  as  that  of  Dias  himself. 

And  why  has  this  thing  been  done?  To  maintain  a 
chattel  slavery  more  cruel  than  ever  existed  in  our 
Southern  states.  To  uphold  a political  tyranny  a hundred 
times  more  unjust  than  the  one  against  which  our  men 
of  Seventy-Six  revolted.  If  the  policy  of  the  Taft  ad- 
ministration be  permitted  to  continue  these  purposes  will 
be  attained.  Already  the  revolution  has  received  such  a 
set-back  that,  though  it  win  in  the  end,  many  good  and 
brave  men  must  die  who  otherwise  might  have  lived. 
The  purpose  of  this  book  was  to  inform  the  American 
people  as  to  the  facts  about  Mexico  in  order  that  they 
might  be  prepared  to  prevent  American  intervention 
against  a revolution  the  justice  of  which  there  can  be  no 
question. 

So  far  “Barbarous  Mexico”  has  failed  in  this  purpose. 
Will  it  fail  in  the  end?  Are  the  American  people  as  en- 
slaved in  spirit  as  the  Mexicans  are  in  body?  In  Mexico 
the  only  protest  possible  is  a protest  of  arms.  In  the 
United  States  there  is  still  a degree  of  freedom  of  press 
and  speech.  Though  by  tricks  and  deceits  innumerable 
the  rulers  of  America  succeed  in  evading  the  will  of  the 
majority,  the  majority  yet  may  protest,  and  if  the  protest 
be  long  enough  and  loud  enough,  it  is  still  capable  of 
making  those  rulers  tremble.  Protest  against  the  Crime 
of  Intervention.  And  should  it  become  necessary,  in 
order  to  make  the  rulers  heed,  to  raise  that  protest  to  a 
threat  of  revolution  here,  so  be  it;  the  cause  will  be 
worth  while. 

JOHN  KENNETH  TURNER. 


Los  Angeles,  Calif.,  April  8,  1911. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  Slaves  of  Yucatan 9 

II.  The  Extermination  of  the  Yaquis 37 

III.  Over  the  Exile  Road 49 

IV.  The  Contract  Slaves  of  Valle  Nacional.  67 

V.  In  the  Valley  of  Death 82 

VI.  The  Country  Peons  and  the  City  Poor.  109 
VII.  The  Diaz  System 120 

VIII.  Repressive  Elements  of  the  Diaz  Ma- 
chine   138 

IX.  The  Crushing  of  Opposition  Parties.  . . . 160 

X.  The  Eighth  Unanimous  Election  of 

Diaz  174 

XI.  Four  Mexican  Strikes 197 

XII.  Critics  and  Corroboration 220 

XIII.  The  Diaz-American  Press  Conspiracy...  237 

XIV.  The  American  Partners  of  Diaz 253 

XV.  American  Persecution  of  the  Enemies 

of  Diaz  270 

XVI.  Diaz  Himself 299 

XVII.  The  Mexican  People 324 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

Slave  Mother  and  Child,  also  Henequen  Plant 20 

Women  Are  Cheaper  than  Grist-Mills 20 

Calling  the  Roll  at  Sunrise  on  a Slave  Plantation 26 

Scene  in  a Yaqui  Bull  Pen  on  the  Exile  Road 49 

Band  of  Yaquis  on  the  Exile  Road 52 

Type  of  “Enganchado,”  or  Plantation  Slave 70 

Boy  Slaves  on  a Sugar  Plantation  in  the  Hot  Lands 96 

Cargadores  with  Baskets,  Seen  Everywhere  on  the 

Mexican  Plateau 110 

Midnight  in  Mexico  City  “Meson,”  Cheap  Lodging  House  116 

Two  Groups  of  Waifs  Sleeping  in  a “Meson” 118 

Ready  for  the  Execution 140 

Mexican  Cavalry  and  Mexican  County  Jail 144 

Yaquis  Hanged  in  Sonora,  Mexican  Rurales 148 

A Typical  Mexican  Military  Execution,  Before  and  After  164 
Diaz  and  Taft  Photographed  Together  at  El  Paso,  Texas  254 
Portraits  of  Five  American  Revolutionists 272 

Primitive  Plow;  Mexico  Is  Backward  in  Modern  Ma- 
chinery, Not  Because  the  Mexican  Laborer  Is  Stupid, 
but  Because  He  Is  Cheap 328 

Wood  Carriers,  City  of  Mexico 334 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 

What  is  Mexico? 

Americans  commonly  characterize  Mexico  as  “Our 
Sister  Republic.”  Most  of  us  picture  her  vaguely  as 
a republic  in  reality  much  like  our  own,  inhabited  by 
people  a little  different  in  temperament,  a little  poorer 
and  a little  less  advanced,  but  still  enjoying  the  protec- 
tion of  republican  laws — a free  people  in  the  sense  that 
we  are  free. 

Others  of  us,  who  have  seen  the  country  through  a 
car  window,  or  speculated  a little  in  Mexican  mines 
or  Mexican  plantations,  paint  that  country  beyond  the 
Rio  Grande  as  a benevolent  paternalism  in  which  a 
great  and  good  man  orders  all  things  well  for  his  fool- 
ish but  adoring  people. 

I found  Mexico  to  be  neither  of  these  things.  The 
real  Mexico  I found  to  be  a country  with  a written 
constitution  and  written  laws  in  general  almost  as  fair 
and  democratic  as  our  own,  but  with  neither  constitution 
nor  laws  in  operation.  Mexico  is  a country  without 
political  freedom,  without  freedom  of  speech,  without 
a free  press,  without  a free  ballot,  without  a jury  sys- 
tem, without  political  parties,  without  any  of  our  cher- 
ished guarantees  of  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness.  It  is  a land  where  there  has  been  no  contest 


9 


10 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


for  the  office  of  president  for  more  than  a generation, 
where  the  executive  rules  all  things  by  means  of  a 
standing  army,  where  political  offices  are  sold  for  a fixed 
price.  I found  Mexico  to  be  a land  where  the  people 
are  poor  because  they  have  no  rights,  where  peonage 
is  the  rule  for  the  great  mass,  and  where  actual  chattel 
slavery  obtains  for  hundreds  of  thousands.  Finally,  I 
found  that  the  people  do  not  idolize  their  president,  that 
the  tide  of  opposition,  dammed  and  held  back  as  it  has 
been  by  army  and  secret  police,  is  rising  to  a height 
where  it  must  shortly  overflow  that  dam.  Mexicans 
of  all  classes  and  affiliations  agree  that  their  country 
is  on  the  verge  of  a revolution  in  favor  of  democracy; 
if  not  a revolution  in  the  time  of  Diaz,  for  Diaz  is  old 
and  is  expected  soon  to  pass,  then  a revolution  after 
Diaz. 

My  special  interest  in  political  Mexico  was  first  awak- 
ened early  in  1908,  when  I came  in  contact  with  four 
Mexican  revolutionists  who  were  at  that  time  incar- 
cerated in  the  county  jail  at  Los  Angeles,  California. 
Here  were  four  educated,  intelligent  Mexicans,  college 
men,  all  of  them,  who  were  being  held  by  the  United 
States  authorities  on  a charge  of  planning  to  invade  a 
friendly  nation — Mexico — with  an  armed  force  from 
American  soil. 

Why  should  intelligent  men  take  up  arms  against  a 
republic?  Why  should  they  come  to  the  United  States 
to  prepare  for  their  military  maneuvers?  I talked  with 
those  Mexican  prisoners.  They  assured  me  that  at 
one  time  they  had  peacefully  agitated  in  their  own  coun- 
try for  a peaceful  and  constitutional  overthrow  of  the 
persons  in  control  of  their  government. 

But  for  that  very  thing,  they  declared,  they  had  been 
imprisoned  and  their  property  had  been  destroyed.  Secret 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


11 


police  had  dogged  their  steps,  their  lives  had  been  threat- 
ened, and  countless  methods  had  been  used  to  prevent 
them  from  carrying  on  their  work.  Finally,  hunted 
as  outlaws  beyond  the  national  boundaries,  denied  the 
rights  of  free  speech,  press  and  assembly,  denied  the 
right  peaceably  to  organize  to  bring  about  political 
changes,  they  had  resorted  to  the  only  alternative — 
arms.  Why  had  they  wished  to  overturn  their  govern- 
ment? Because  it  had  set  aside  the  constitution,  because 
it  had  abolished  those  civic  rights  which  all  enlightened 
men  agree  are  necessary  for  the  unfolding  of  a nation, 
because  it  had  dispossessed  the  common  people  of  their 
lands,  because  it  had  converted  free  laborers  into  serfs, 
peons,  and  some  of  them  even  into — slaves. 

“Slavery?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  there  is  any 
real  slavery  left  in  the  western  hemisphere?”  I scoffed. 
“Bah!  You  are  talking  like  an  American  socialist.  You 
mean  ‘wage  slavery,’  or  slavery  to  miserable  conditions 
of  livelihood.  You  don’t  mean  chattel  slavery.” 

But  those  four  Mexican  exiles  refused  to  give  ground. 
“Yes,  slavery,”  they  said,  “chattel  slavery.  Men,  women 
and  children  bought  and  sold  like  mules — just  like  mules 
— and  like  mules  they  belong  to  their  masters.  They  are 
slaves.” 

“Human  beings  bought  and  sold  like  mules  in 
America!  And  in  the  twentieth  century.  Well,”  I told 
myself,  “if  it’s  true,  I’m  going  to  see  it.” 

So  it  was  that  early  in  September,  1908,  I crossed 
the  Rio  Grande  bound  for  my  first  trip  through  the 
back  yards  of  Old  Mexico. 

Upon  this  first  trip  I was  accompanied  by  L.  Gutier- 
rez De  Lara,  a Mexican  of  distinguished  family,  whose 
acquaintance  I had  made  also  in  Los  Angeles.  De  Lara 
was  opposed  to  the  existing  government  in  Mexico, 


12 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


which  fact  my  critics  have  pointed  out  as  evidence  of 
bias  in  my  investigations.  On  the  contrary,  I did  not 
depend  on  De  Lara  or  any  other  biassed  source  for 
my  information,  but  took  every  precaution  to  arrive 
at  the  exact  truth,  and  by  as  many  different  avenues 
as  practicable.  Every  essential  fact  which  I put  down 
here  in  regard  to  the  slavery  of  Mexico  I saw  with  my 
own  eyes  or  heard  with  my  own  ears,  and  heard  usually 
from  those  individuals  who  would  be  most  likely  to 
minimize  their  cruelties — the  slave-drivers  themselves. 

Nevertheless,  to  the  credit  of  De  Lara  I must  say 
that  he  gave  me  most  important  aid  in  gathering  my 
material.  By  his  knowledge  of  the  country  and  the 
people,  by  his  genius  as  a “mixer,”  and,  above  all, 
through  his  personal  acquaintance  with  valuable  sources 
of  information  all  over  the  country — men  on  the  inside 
— I was  enabled  to  see  and  hear  things  which  are  prac- 
tically inaccessible  to  the  ordinary  investigator. 

Slavery  in  Mexico!  Yes,  I found  it.  I found  it  first 
in  Yucatan.  The  peninsula  of  Yucatan  is  an  elbow  of 
Central  America,  which  shoots  off  in  a northeasterly 
direction  almost  half  way  to  Florida.  It  belongs  to 
Mexico,  and  its  area  of  some  80,000  square  miles  is 
almost  equally  divided  among  the  states  of  Yucatan  and 
Campeche  and  the  territory  of  Quintana  Roo. 

The  coast  of  Yucatan,  which  comprises  the  north- 
central  part  of  the  peninsula,  is  about  a thousand  miles 
directly  south  of  New  Orleans.  The  surface  of  the 
state  is  almost  solid  rock,  so  nearly  solid  that  it  is  usually 
impossible  to  plant  a tree  without  first  blasting  a hole 
to  receive  the  shoot  and  make  a place  for  the  roots. 
Yet  this  naturally  barren  land  is  more  densely  populated 
than  is  our  own  United  States.  More  than  that,  within 
one-fourth  of  the  territory  three-fourths  of  the  people 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


13 


live,  and  the  density  of  the  population  runs  to  nearly 
seventy-five  per  square  mile. 

The  secret  of  these  peculiar  conditions  is  that  the 
soil  and  the  climate  of  northern  Yucatan  happen  to  be 
perfectly  adapted  to  the  production  of  that  hardy  species 
of  century  plant  which  produces  henequcn,  or  sisal 
hemp.  Hence  we  find  the  city  of  Merida,  a beautiful 
modern  city  claiming  a population  of  60,000  people, 
and  surrounding  it,  supporting  it,  vast  henequen 
plantations  on  which  the  rows  of  gigantic  green  plants 
extend  for  miles  and  miles.  The  farms  are  so  large 
that  each  has  a little  city  of  its  own,  inhabited  by  from 
500  to  2,500  people,  according  to  the  size  of  the  farm. 
The  owners  of  these  great  farms  are  the  chief  slave- 
holders of  Yucatan;  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  cities 
are  the  slaves.  The  annual  export  of  henequen  from 
Yucatan  approximates  250,000,000  pounds.  The  popu- 
lation of  Yucatan  is  about  three  hundred  thousand.  The 
slave-holders’  club  numbers  250  members,  but  the  vast 
majority  of  the  lands  and  the  slaves  are  concentrated 
in  the  hands  of  fifty  henequen  kings.  The  slaves  num- 
ber more  than  one  hundred  thousand. 

In  order  to  secure  the  truth  in  its  greatest  purity  from 
the  lips  of  the  masters  of  the  slaves  I went  among  them 
playing  a part.  Long  before  I put  my  feet  upon  the 
white  sands  of  Progreso,  the  port  of  Yucatan,  I had 
heard  how  visiting  investigators  are  bought  or  blinded, 
how,  if  they  cannot  be  bought,  they  are  wined  and 
dined  and  filled  with  falsehood,  then  taken  over  a route 
previously  prepared — fooled,  in  short,  so  completely  that 
they  go  away  half  believing  that  the  slaves  are  not 
slaves,  that  the  hundred  thousand  half-starving,  over- 
worked, degraded  bondsmen  are  perfectly  happy  and  so 
contented  with  their  lot  that  it  would  be  a shame  indeed 


14 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


to  yield  to  them  the  freedom  and  security  which,  in  all 
humanity,  is  the  rightful  share  of  every  human  being 
born  upon  the  earth. 

The  part  which  I played  in  Yucatan  was  that  of  an 
investor  with  much  money  to  sink  in  henequen  prop- 
erties, and  as  such  I was  warmly  welcomed  by  the 
henequen  kings.  I was  rather  fortunate  in  going  to 
Yucatan  when  I did.  Until  the  panic  of  1907  it  was 
a well-understood  and  unanimously  approved  policy  of 
the  “Camara  de  Agricola,”  the  planters’  organization, 
that  foreigners  should  not  be  allowed  to  invade  the 
henequen  business.  This  was  partly  because  the  profits 
of  the  business  were  huge  and  the  rich  Yucatecos  wanted 
to  “hog  it  all”  for  themselves,  but  more  especially  be- 
cause they  feared  that  through  foreigners  the  story  of 
their  misdeeds  might  become  known  to  the  world. 

But  the  panic  of  1907  wiped  out  the  world’s  henequen 
market  for  a time.  The  planters  were  a company  of 
little  Rockefellers,  but  they  needed  ready  cash,  and  they 
were  willing  to  take  it  from  anyone  who  came.  Hence 
my  imaginary  money  was  the  open  sesame  to  their  club, 
and  to  their  farms.  I not  only  discussed  every  phase 
of  henequen  production  with  the  kings  themselves,  and 
while  they  were  off  their  guard,  but  I observed  thousands 
of  slaves  under  their  normal  conditions. 

Chief  among  the  henequen  kings  of  Yucatan  is 
Olegario  Molina,  former  governor  of  the  state  and  Sec- 
retary of  Fomento  (Public  Promotion)  of  Mexico. 
Molina’s  holdings  of  lands  in  Yucatan  and  Quintana 
Roo  aggregate  15,000,000  acres,  or  23,000  square  miles 
— a small  kingdom  in  itself.  The  fifty  kings  live  in 
costly  palaces  in  Merida  and  many  of  them  have  homes 
abroad.  They  travel  a great  deal,  usually  they  speak 
several  different  languages,  and  they  and  their  families 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


15 


are  a most  cultivated  class  of  people.  All  Merida  and 
all  Yucatan,  even  all  the  peninsula  of  Yucatan,  are 
dependent  on  the  fifty  henequen  kings.  Naturally  these 
men  are  in  control  of  the  political  machinery  of  their 
state,  and  naturally  they  operate  that  machinery  for  their 
own  benefit.  The  slaves  are  8,000  Yaqui  Indians  im- 
ported from  Sonora,  3,000  Chinese  (Koreans),  and  be- 
tween 100,000  and  125,000  native  Mayas,  who  formerly 
owned  the  lands  that  the  henequen  kings  now  own. 

The  Maya  people,  indeed,  form  about  ninety-five  per 
cent  of  the  population  of  Yucatan.  Even  the  majority 
of  the  fifty  henequen  kings  are  Mayas  crossed  with  the 
blood  of  Spain.  The  Mayas  are  Indians — and  yet  they 
are  not  Indians.  They  are  not  like  the  Indians  of  the 
United  States,  and  they  are  called  Indians  only  because 
their  homes  were  in  the  western  hemisphere  when  the 
Europeans  came.  The  Mayas  had  a civilization  of  their 
own  when  the  Europeans  “discovered”  them,  and  it 
was  a civilization  admittedly  as  high  as  that  of  the  most 
advanced  Aztecs  or  the  Incas  of  Peru. 

The  Mayas  are  a peculiar  people.  They  look  like 
no  other  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  They  are  not 
like  other  Mexicans;  they  are  not  like  Americans;  they 
are  not  like  Chinamen;  they  are  not  like  East  Indians; 
they  are  not  like  Turks.  Yet  one  might  very  easily 
imagine  that  fusion  of  all  these  five  widely  different 
peoples  might  produce  a people  much  like  the  Mayas. 
They  are  not  large  in  stature,  but  their  features  are 
remarkably  finely  chiselled  and  their  bodies  give  a strong 
impression  of  elegance  and  grace.  Their  skins  are 
olive,  their  foreheads  high,  their  faces  slightly  aquiline. 
The  women  of  all  classes  in  Merida  wear  long,  flowing 
white  gowns,  unbound  at  the  waist  and  embroidered 
about  the  hem  and  perhaps  also  about  the  bust  in  some 


16 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


bright  color — green,  blue  or  purple.  In  the  warm  even- 
ings a military  band  plays  and  hundreds  of  comely 
women  and  girls  thus  alluringly  attired  mingle  among 
the  fragrant  flowers,  the  art  statues  and  the  tropical 
greenery  of  the  city  plaza. 

The  planters  do  not  call  their  chattels  slaves.  They  call 
them  “people,”  or  “laborers,”  especially  when  speaking 
to  strangers.  But  when  speaking  confidentially  they 
have  said  to  me:  “Yes,  they  are  slaves.” 

But  I did  not  accept  the  word  slavery  from  the  people 
of  Yucatan,  though  they  were  the  holders  of  the  slaves 
themselves.  The  proof  of  a fact  is  to  be  found,  not  in 
the  name,  but  in  the  conditions  thereof.  Slavery  is 
the  ownership  of  the  body  of  a man,  an  ownership  so 
absolute  that  the  body  can  be  transferred  to  another, 
an  ownership  that  gives  to  the  owner  a right  to  take 
the  products  of  that  body,  to  starve  it,  to  chastise  it  at 
will,  to  kill  it  with  impunity.  Such  is  slavery  in  the 
extreme  sense.  Such  is  slavery  as  I found  it  in  Yucatan. 

The  masters  of  Yucatan  do  not  call  their  system 
slavery;  they  call  it  enforced  service  for  debt.  “We 
do  not  consider  that  we  own  our  laborers;  we  consider 
that  they  are  in  debt  to  us.  And  we  do  not  consider 
that  we  buy  and  sell  them ; we  consider  that  we  transfer 
the  debt,  and  the  man  goes  with  the  debt.”  This  is  the 
way  Don  Enrique  Camara  Zavala,  president  of  the 
“Camara  de  Agricola  de  Yucatan,”  explained  the  atti- 
tude of  the  henequen  kings  in  the  matter.  “Slavery  is 
against  the  law ; we  do  not  call  it  slavery,”  various  plant- 
ers assured  me  again  and  again. 

But  the  fact  that  it  is  not  service  for  debt  is  proven 
by  the  habit  of  transferring  the  slaves  from  one  master 
to  another,  not  on  any  basis  of  debt,  but  on  the  basis  of 
the  market  price  of  a man.  In  figuring  on  the  purchase 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


17 


of  a plantation  I always  had  to  figure  on  paying  cash 
for  the  slaves,  exactly  the  same  as  for  the  land,  the 
machinery  and  the  cattle.  Four  hundred  Mexican  dollars 
apiece  was  the  prevailing  price,  and  that  is  what  the 
planters  usually  asked  me.  “If  you  buy  now  you  buy 
at  a very  good  time,”  I was  told  again  and  again.  “The 
panic  has  put  the  price  down.  One  year  ago  the 
price  of  each  man  was  $1,000.” 

The  Yaquis  are  transferred  on  exactly  the  same  basis 
as  the  Mayas — the  market  price  of  a slave — and  yet  all 
people  of  Yucatan  know  that  the  planters  pay  only  $65 
apiece  to  the  government  for  each  Yaqui.  I was  offered 
for  $400  each  Yaquis  who  had  not  been  in  the  country 
a month  and  consequently  had  had  no  opportunity  of 
rolling  up  a debt  that  would  account  for  the  difference 
in  price.  Moreover,  one  of  the  planters  told  me:  “We 
don’t  allow  the  Yaquis  to  get  in  debt  to  us.” 

It  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  reason  the 
price  was  uniform  was  because  all  the  slaves  were  equally 
in  debt.  I probed  this  matter  a little  by  inquiring  into 
the  details  of  the  selling  transaction.  “You  get  the 
photograph  and  identification  papers  with  the  man,”  said 
one,  “and  that’s  all.”  “You  get  the  identification  papers 
and  the  account  of  the  debt,”  said  another.  “We  don’t 
keep  much  account  of  the  debt,”  said  a third,  “because 
it  doesn’t  matter  after  you’ve  got  possession  of  the  man.” 
“The  man  and  the  identification  papers  are  enough,” 
said  another;  “if  your  man  runs  away,  the  papers  are 
all  the  authorities  require  for  you  to  get  him  back  again.” 
“Whatever  the  debt,  it  takes  the  market  price  to  get 
him  free  again,”  a fifth  told  me. 

Conflicting  as  some  of  these  answers  are,  they  all 
tend  to  show  one  thing,  that  the  debt  counts  for  nothing 
after  the  debtor  passes  into  the  hands  of  the  planter. 


18 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Whatever  the  debt,  it  takes  the  market  price  to  get  the 
debtor  free  again ! 

Even  then,  I thought,  it  would  not  be  so  bad  if  the 
servant  had  an  opportunity  of  working  out  the  price 
and  buying  back  his  freedom.  Even  some  of  our  negro 
slaves  before  the  Civil  War  were  permitted — by  excep- 
tionally lenient  masters — to  do  that. 

But  I found  that  such  was  not  the  custom.  “You 
need  have  no  fear  in  purchasing  this  plantation,”  said 
one  planter  to  me,  “of  the  laborers  being  able  to  buy 
their  freedom  and  leave  you.  They  can  never  do  that.” 

The  only  man  in  the  country  whom  I heard  of  as 
having  ever  permitted  a slave  to  buy  his  freedom  was 
a professional  man  of  Merida,  an  architect.  “I  bought 
a laborer  for  $1,000,”  he  explained  to  me.  “He  was 
a good  man  and  helped  me  a lot  about  my  office.  After 
I got  to  liking  him  I credited  him  with  so  much  wages 
per  week.  After  eight  years  I owed  him  the  full  $1,000, 
so  I let  him  go.  But  they  never  do  that  on  the  planta- 
tions— never.” 

Thus  I learned  that  the  debt  feature  of  the  enforced 
service  does  not  alleviate  the  hardships  of  the  slave  by 
making  it  easier  for  him  to  free  himself,  neither  does 
it  affect  the  conditions  of  his  sale  or  his  complete  sub- 
jection to  his  master.  On  the  other  hand,  I found  that 
the  one  particular  in  which  this  debt  element  does 
play  an  actual  part  in  the  destiny  of  the  unfortunate 
of  Yucatan  militates  against  him  instead  of  operating  in 
his  favor.  For  it  is  by  means  of  debt  that  the  Yucatan 
slave-driver  gets  possession  of  the  free  laborers  of  his 
realm  to  replenish  the  overworked  and  underfed,  the 
overbeaten,  the  dying  slaves  of  his  plantation. 

How  are  the  slaves  recruited?  Don  Joaquin  Peon 
informed  me  that  the  Maya  slaves  die  off  faster  than 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


19 


they  are  born,  and  Don  Enrique  Camara  Zavala  told 
me  that  two-thirds  of  the  Yaquis  die  during  the  first  year 
of  their  residence  in  the  country.  Hence  the  problem 
of  recruiting  the  slaves  seemed  to  me  a very  serious  one. 
Of  course,  the  Yaquis  were  coming  in  at  the  rate  of 
500  per  month,  yet  I hardly  thought  that  influx  would 
be  sufficient  to  equal  the  tide  of  life  that  was  going  out 
by  death.  I was  right  in  that  surmise,  so  I was  informed, 
but  I was  also  informed  that  the  problem  of  recruits 
was  not  so  difficult,  after  all. 

“It  is  very  easy,”  one  planter  told  me.  “All  that  is 
necessary  is  that  you  get  some  free  laborer  in  debt  to 
you,  and  then  you  have  him.  Yes,  we  are  always  get- 
ting new  laborers  in  that  way.” 

The  amount  of  the  debt  does  not  matter,  so  long  as 
it  is  a debt,  and  the  little  transaction  is  arranged  by  men 
who  combine  the  functions  of  money  lender  and  slave 
broker.  Some  of  them  have  offices  in  Merida  and  they 
get  the  free  laborers,  clerks  and  the  poorer  class  of 
people  generally  into  debt  just  as  professional  loan  sharks 
of  America  get  clerks,  mechanics  and  office  men  into 
debt — by  playing  on  their  needs  and  tempting  them. 
Were  these  American  clerks,  mechanics  and  office  men 
residents  of  Yucatan,  instead  of  being  merely  hounded 
by  a loan  shark,  they  would  be  sold  into  slavery  for  all 
time,  they  and  their  children  and  their  children’s  chil- 
dren, on  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation,  and  even 
farther,  on  to  such  a time  as  some  political  change  puts 
a stop  to  the  conditions  of  slavery  altogether  in  Mexico. 

These  money-lending  slave  brokers  of  Merida  do  not 
hang  out  signs  and  announce  to  the  world  that  they  have 
slaves  to  sell.  They  do  their  business  quietly,  as  people 
who  are  comparatively  safe  in  their  occupation,  but  as 
people  who  do  not  wish  to  endanger  their  business  by 


20 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


too  great  publicity — like  police-protected  gambling 
houses  in  an  American  city,  for  example.  These  slave 
sharks  were  mentioned  to  me  by  the  henequen  kings 
themselves,  cautiously  by  them,  as  a rule.  Other  old 
residents  of  Yucatan  explained  their  methods  in  detail. 
I was  curious  to  visit  one  of  these  brokers  and  talk  with 
him  about  purchasing  a lot  of  slaves,  but  I was  advised 
against  it  and  was  told  that  they  would  not  talk  to  a 
foreigner  until  the  latter  had  established  himself  in  the 
community  and  otherwise  proved  his  good  faith. 

These  men  buy  and  sell  slaves.  And  the  planters  buy 
and  sell  slaves.  I was  offered  slaves  in  lots  of  one  up 
by  the  planters.  I was  told  that  I could  buy  a man  or 
a woman,  a boy  or  a girl,  or  a thousand  of  any  of  them, 
to  do  with  them  exactly  as  I wished,  that  the  police 
would  protect  me  in  my  possession  of  those,  my  fellow 
beings.  Slaves  are  not  only  used  on  the  henequen  plan- 
tations, but  in  the  city,  as  personal  servants,  as  laborers, 
as  household  drudges,  as  prostitutes.  How  many  of 
these  persons  there  are  in  the  city  of  Merida  I do  not 
know,  though  I heard  many  stories  of  the  absolute  power 
exercised  over  them.  Certainly  the  number  is  several 
thousand. 

So  we  see  that  the  debt  element  in  Yucatan  not  only 
does  not  palliate  the  condition  of  the  slave,  but  rather 
makes  it  harder.  It  increases  his  extremity,  for  while 
it  does  not  help  him  to  climb  out  of  his  pit,  it  reaches 
out  its  tentacles  and  drags  down  his  brother,  too.  The 
portion  of  the  people  of  Yucatan  who  are  born  free 
possess  no  “inalienable  right’’  to  their  freedom.  They 
are  free  only  by  virtue  of  their  being  prosperous.  Let 
a family,  however  virtuous,  however  worthy,  however 
cultivated,  fall  into  misfortune,  let  the  parents  fall  into 
debt  and  be  unable  to  pay  the  debt,  and  the  whole  family 


SLAVE  MOTHER  AND  CHILD;  ALSO  IIENEQUEN  PLANT 


WOMEN  ARE  CHEAPER  THAN  GRIST-MILLS 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


21 


is  liable  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  a henequen  planter. 
Through  debt,  the  dying  slaves  of  the  farms  are  replaced 
by  the  unsuccessful  wage-workers  of  the  cities. 

Why  do  the  henequen  kings  call  their  system  enforced 
service  for  debt  instead  of  by  its  right  name?  Prob- 
ably for  two  reasons — because  the  system  is  the  out- 
growth of  a milder  system  of  actual  service  for  debt, 
and  because  of  the  prejudice  against  the  word  slavery, 
both  among  Mexicans  and  foreigners.  Service  for  debt 
in  a milder  form  than  is  found  in  Yucatan  exists  all  over 
Mexico  and  is  called  peonage.  Under  this  system,  police 
authorities  everywhere  recognize  the  right  of  an  em- 
ployer to  take  the  body  of  a laborer  who  is  in  debt  to 
him,  and  to  compel  the  laborer  to  work  out  the  debt. 
Of  course,  once  the  employer  can  compel  the  laborer 
to  work,  he  can  compel  him  to  work  at  his  own  terms, 
and  that  means  that  he  can  work  him  on  such  terms  as 
will  never  permit  the  laborer  to  extricate  himself  from 
his  debt. 

Such  is  peonage  as  it  exists  throughout  all  Mexico. 
In  the  last  analysis  it  is  slavery,  but  the  employers  con- 
trol the  police,  and  the  fictional  distinction  is  kept  up 
all  the  same.  Slavery  is  peonage  carried  to  its  greatest 
possible  extreme,  and  the  reason  we  find  the  extreme 
in  Yucatan  is  that,  while  in  some  other  sections  of  Mex- 
ico a fraction  of  the  ruling  interests  are  opposed  to 
peonage  and  consequently  exert  a modifying  influence 
upon  it,  in  Yucatan  all  the  ruling  interests  are  in  hene- 
quen. The  cheaper  the  worker  the  higher  the  profits 
for  all.  The  peon  becomes  a chattel  slave. 

The  henequen  kings  of  Yucatan  seek  to  excuse  their 
system  of  slavery  by  denominating  it  enforced  service 
for  debt.  “Slavery  is  against  the  law,”  they  say.  “It 
is  against  the  constitution.”  When  a thing  is  abolished 


22 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


by  your  constitution  it  works  more  smoothly  if  called 
by  another  name,  but  the  fact  is,  service  for  debt  is 
just  as  unconstitutional  in  Mexico  as  chattel  slavery. 
The  plea  of  the  henequen  king  of  keeping  within  the 
law  is  entirely  without  foundation.  A comparison  of 
the  following  two  clauses  from  the  Mexican  constitu- 
tion will  show  that  the  two  systems  are  in  the  same 
class. 

“Article  I,  Section  1.  In  the  Republic  all  are  born 
free.  Slaves  who  set  foot  upon  the  national  territory 
recover,  by  that  act  alone,  their  liberty,  and  have  a right 
to  the  protection  of  the  laws.” 

“Article  V,  Section  1 (Amendment).  No  one  shall 
be  compelled  to  do  personal  work  without  just  compen- 
sation and  without  his  full  consent.  The  state  shall 
not  permit  any  contract,  covenant  or  agreement  to  be 
carried  out  having  for  its  object  the  abridgment,  loss 
or  irrevocable  sacrifice  of  the  liberty  of  a man,  whether 
by  reason  of  labor,  education  or  religious  vows.  * * * 

Nor  shall  any  compact  be  tolerated  in  which  a man 
agrees  to  his  proscription  or  exile.” 

So  the  slave  business  in  Yucatan,  whatever  name  may 
be  applied  to  it,  is  still  unconstitutional.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  policy  of  the  present  government  is  to  be 
taken  as  the  law  of  the  land,  the  slave  business  of 
Mexico  is  legal.  In  that  sense  the  henequen  kings  “obey 
the  law.”  Whether  they  are  righteous  in  doing  so  I 
will  leave  to  hair-splitters  in  morality.  Whatever  the 
decision  may  be,  right  or  wrong,  it  does  not  change,  for 
better  or  for  worse,  the  pitiful  misery  in  which  I found 
the  hemp  laborers  of  Yucatan. 

The  slaves  of  Yucatan  get  no  money.  They  are  half 
starved.  They  are  worked  almost  to  death.  They  are 
beaten.  A large  percentage  of  them  are  locked  up  every 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


23 


night  in  a house  resembling  a jail.  If  they  are  sick 
they  must  still  work,  and  if  they  are  so  sick  that  it  is 
impossible  for  them  to  work,  they  are  seldom  permitted 
the  services  of  a physician.  The  women  are  compelled 
to  marry,  compelled  to  marry  men  of  their  own  planta- 
tion only,  and  sometimes  are  compelled  to  marry  certain 
men  not  of  their  choice.  There  are  no  schools  for  the 
children.  Indeed,  the  entire  lives  of  these  people  are 
ordered  at  the  whim  of  a master,  and  if  the  master 
wishes  to  kill  them,  he  may  do  so  with  impunity.  I 
heard  numerous  stories  of  slaves  being  beaten  to  death, 
but  I never  heard  of  an  instance  in  which  the  murderer 
was  punished,  or  even  arrested.  The  police,  the  public 
prosecutors  and  the  judges  know  exactly  what  is  ex- 
pected of  them,  for  the  men  who  appoint  them  are  the 
planters  themselves.  The  jefcs  politicos,  the  rulers  of 
the  political  districts  corresponding  to  our  counties,  who 
are  as  truly  czars  of  the  districts  as  Diaz  is  the  Czar  of 
all  Mexico,  are  invariably  either  henequen  planters  or 
employes  of  henequen  planters. 

The  first  mention  of  corporal  punishment  for  the 
slaves  was  made  to  me  by  one  of  the  members  of  the 
Camara,  a large,  portly  fellow  with  the  bearing  of  an 
opera  singer  and  a white  diamond  shining  at  me  like 
a sun  from  his  slab-like  shirt  front.  He  told  a story, 
and  as  he  told  it  he  laughed.  I laughed,  too,  but  in  a 
little  different  way.  I could  not  help  feeling  that  the  story 
was  made  to  order  to  fit  strangers. 

“Oh,  yes,  we  have  to  punish  them,”  said  the  fat  king 
of  henequen.  “We  even  are  compelled  to  whip  the 
house  servants  of  the  city.  It  is  their  nature;  they  de- 
mand it.  A friend  of  mine,  a very  mild  man,  had  a 
woman  servant  who  was  always  wishing  to  serve  some- 
body else.  My  friend  finally  sold  the  woman,  and  some 


24 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


months  later  he  met  her  on  the  street  and  asked  her 
how  she  liked  her  new  master.  ‘Finely,’  she  answered, 
‘finely.  You  see,  my  master  is  a very  rough  man  and 
he  beats  me  nearly  every  day !’  ” 

The  philosophy  of  beating  was  made  very  clear  to  me 
by  Don  Felipe  G.  Canton,  secretary  of  the  Camara. 

“It  is  necessary  to  whip  them — oh,  yes,  very  neces- 
sary,” he  told  me,  with  a smile,  “for  there  is  no  other 
way  to  make  them  do  what  you  wish.  What  other 
means  is  there  of  enforcing  the  discipline  of  the  farm? 
If  we  did  not  whip  them  they  would  do  nothing.” 

I could  make  no  reply.  I could  think  of  no  ground 
upon  which  to  assail  Don  Felipe’s  logic.  For  what, 
pray,  can  be  done  to  a chattel  slave  to  make  him  work 
but  to  beat  him?  With  the  wage  worker  you  have  the 
fear  of  discharge  or  the  reduction  of  wages  to  hold  over 
his  head  and  make  him  toe  the  mark,  but  the  chattel 
slave  would  welcome  discharge,  and  as  to  reducing  his 
food  supply,  you  don’t  dare  to  do  that  or  you  kill  him 
outright.  At  least,  that  is  the  case  in  Yucatan. 

One  of  the  first  sights  we  saw  on  a henequen  planta- 
tion was  the  beating  of  a slave — a formal  beating  before 
the  assembled  toilers  of  the  ranch  early  in  the  morning 
just  after  the  daily  roll  call.  The  slave  was  taken  on 
the  back  of  a huge  Chinaman  and  given  fifteen  lashes 
across  the  bare  back  with  a heavy,  wet  rope,  lashes  so 
lustily  delivered  that  the  blood  ran  down  the  victim’s 
body.  This  method  of  beating  is  an  ancient  one  in 
Yucatan  and  is  the  customary  one  on  all  the  plantations 
for  boys  and  all  except  the  heaviest  men.  Women  are 
required  to  kneel  to  be  beaten,  as  sometimes  are  men 
of  great  weight.  Men  and  women  are  beaten  in  the  fields 
as  well  as  at  the  morning  roll  call.  Each  foreman,  or 
capatas,  carries  a heavy  cane  with  which  he  punches 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


25 


and  prods  and  whacks  the  slaves  at  will.  I do  not 
remember  visiting  a single  field  in  which  I did  not  see 
some  of  this  punching  and  prodding  and  whacking 
going  on. 

I saw  no  punishments  worse  than  beating  in  Yucatan, 
but  I heard  of  them.  I was  told  of  men  being  strung 
up  by  their  fingers  or  toes  to  be  beaten,  of  their  being 
thrust  into  black  dungeon-like  holes,  of  water  being 
dropped  on  the  hand  until  the  victim  screamed,  of  the 
extremity  of  female  punishment  being  found  in  some 
outrage  to  the  sense  of  the  modesty  in  the  woman.  I 
saw  black  holes  and  everywhere  I saw  the  jail  dormi- 
tories, armed  guards  and  night  guards  who  patrolled 
the  outskirts  of  the  farm  settlements  while  the  slaves 
slept.  I heard  also  of  planters  who  took  special  delight 
in  personally  superintending  the  beating  of  their  chat- 
tels. For  example,  speaking  of  one  of  the  richest  plant- 
ers in  Yucatan,  a professional  man  of  Merida  said  to 
me: 

“A  favorite  pastime  of  was  to  sit  on  his 

horse  and  watch  the  ‘cleaning  up’  (the  punishment)  of 
his  slaves.  He  would  strike  a match  to  light  his  cigar. 
At  the  first  puff  of  smoke  the  first  stroke  of  the  wet 
rope  would  fall  on  the  bare  back  of  the  victim.  He 
would  smoke  on,  leisurely,  contentedly,  as  the  blows  fell, 
one  after  another.  When  the  entertainment  finally  palled 
on  him  he  would  throw  away  his  cigar  and  the  man 
with  the  rope  would  stop,  for  the  end  of  the  cigar  was 
the  signal  for  the  end  of  the  beating.” 

The  great  plantations  of  Yucatan  are  reached  by  pri- 
vate mule  car  lines  built  and  operated  specially  for  the 
business  of  the  henequen  kings.  The  first  plantation 
that  we  visited  was  typical.  Situated  fifteen  miles  west 
of  Merida,  it  contains  thirty-six  square  miles  of  land, 


26 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


one-fourth  of  it  in  henequen,  part  of  the  rest  in  pasture 
and  a part  unreclaimed.  In  the  center  of  the  plantation 
is  the  farm  settlement,  consisting  of  a grass-grown  patio, 
or  yard,  surrounding  which  are  the  main  farm  buildings, 
the  store,  the  factory,  the  house  of  the  administrador,  or 
general  manager;  the  house  of  the  mayordomo  primero, 
or  superintendent ; the  houses  of  the  mayordomos  sec- 
undos,  or  overseers,  and  the  little  chapel.  Behind  these 
are  the  corrals,  the  drying  yard,  the  stable,  the  jail 
dormitory.  Finally,  surrounding  all  are  the  rows  of 
one-room  huts  set  in  little  patches  of  ground,  in  which 
reside  the  married  slaves  and  their  families. 

Here  we  found  fifteen  hundred  slaves  and  about  thirty 
bosses  of  various  degrees.  Thirty  of  the  slaves  were 
Koreans,  about  two  hundred  were  Yaquis  and  the  rest 
were  Mayas.  The  Maya  slaves,  to  my  eyes,  differed 
from  the  free  Mayas  I had  seen  in  the  city  principally 
in  their  clothing  and  their  general  unkempt  and  over- 
worked appearance.  Certainly  they  were  of  the  same 
clay.  Their  clothing  was  poor  and  ragged,  yet  generally 
clean.  The  women  wore  calico,  the  men  the  thin,  un- 
bleached cotton  shirt  and  trousers  of  the  tropics,  the 
trousers  being  often  rolled  to  the  knees.  Their  hats 
were  of  coarse  straw  or  grass,  their  feet  always  bare. 

Seven  hundred  of  the  slaves  are  able-bodied  men,  the 
rest  women  and  children.  Three  hundred  and  eighty 
of  the  men  are  married  and  live  with  their  families  in 
the  one-room  huts.  These  huts  are  set  in  little  patches 
of  ground  144  feet  square,  which,  rocky  and  barren  as 
they  are,  are  cultivated  to  some  small  purpose  by  the 
women  and  children.  In  addition  to  the  product  of 
their  barren  garden  patch  each  family  receives  daily 
credit  at  the  plantation  store  for  twenty-five  centavos, 
or  twelve  and  one-half  cents’  worth  of  merchandise. 


AI.I.ING  THE  ROM.  AT  SUNRISE  ON  A SLAVE  PLANTATION 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


27 


No  money  is  paid;  it  is  all  in  credit,  and  this  same  sys- 
tem prevails  on  about  one-half  the  plantations.  The  other 
half  merely  deal  out  rations.  It  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  but  some  of  the  planters  stick  to  the  money 
credit  system  merely  in  order  to  keep  up  the  pretense 
of  paying  wages.  I priced  some  of  the  goods  at  the 
store — corn,  beans,  salt,  peppers,  clothing  and  blankets 
was  about  all  there  was — and  found  that  the  prices  were 
high.  I could  not  understand  how  a family  could  live 
on  twelve  and  one-half  cents’  worth  of  it  each  day,  a 
hard-working  family,  especially. 

The  slaves  rise  from  their  beds  when  the  big  bell 
in  the  patio  rings  at  3 :45  o’clock  in  the  morning,  and 
their  work  begins  as  soon  thereafter  as  they  can  get 
to  it.  Their  work  in  the  fields  ends  when  it  is  too  dark 
to  see,  and  about  the  yards  it  sometimes  extends  until 
long  into  the  night. 

The  principal  labor  of  the  plantation  is  harvesting 
the  henequen  leaves  and  cleaning  the  weeds  from  be- 
tween the  plants.  Each  slave  is  given  a certain  number 
of  leaves  to  cut  or  plants  to  clean,  and  it  is  the  policy 
of  the  planter  to  make  the  stint  so  hard  that  the  slave 
is  compelled  to  call  out  his  wife  and  children  to  help 
him.  Thus  nearly  all  the  women  and  children  of  the 
plantation  spend  a part  of  the  day  in  the  field.  The 
unmarried  women  spend  all  the  day  in  the  field,  and 
when  a boy  reaches  the  age  of  twelve  he  is  considered 
to  be  a man  and  is  given  a stint  of  his  own  to  do.  Sun- 
days the  slaves  do  not  work  for  the  master.  They  spend 
their  time  in  their  patches,  rest  or  visit.  Sunday  is 
the  day  on  which  the  youths  and  maidens  meet  and  plan 
to  marry.  Sometimes  they  are  even  permitted  to  go  off 
the  farm  and  meet  the  slaves  of  their  neighbor,  but  never 
are  they  permitted  to  marry  the  people  of  other  planta- 


28 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


tions,  for  this  would  necessitate  the  purchase  of  either 
the  wife  or  the  husband  by  one  or  the  other  of  the  two 
owners,  and  that  would  involve  too  much  trouble. 

Such  are  the  conditions  in  general  that  prevail  on 
all  the  plantations  of  Yucatan. 

We  spent  two  days  and  two  nights  on  the  plantation 
called  San  Antonio  Yaxche  and  became  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  its  system  and  its  people. 

Not  only  do  not  the  owners  of  the  great  henequen 
farms  of  Yucatan  live  on  their  farms,  but  neither  do 
the  managers.  Like  the  owners,  the  managers  have 
their  homes  and  their  offices  in  Merida,  and  visit  the 
plantations  only  from  two  to  half  a dozen  times  a month. 
The  mayordomo  primero  is  ordinarily  the  supreme  ruler 
of  the  plantation,  but  when  the  manager,  or  admin- 
istrador,  heaves  in  sight,  the  mayordomo  primero  be- 
comes a very  insignificant  personage  indeed. 

At  least  that  was  the  case  on  San  Antonio  Yaxche. 
The  big  mayordomo  was  compelled  to  bow  and  scrape 
before  the  boss  just  as  were  the  lesser  foremen,  and 
at  meal  time  Manuel  Rios,  the  administrador,  I and  my 
companion — the  latter,  much  to  the  disgust  of  Rios,  who 
looked  upon  him  as  an  underling — dined  alone  in  state 
while  the  mayordomo  hovered  in  the  background,  ready 
to  fly  away  instantly  to  do  our  bidding.  At  the  first 
meal — and  it  was  the  best  I had  in  all  Mexico — I felt 
strongly  impelled  to  invite  Mister  Mayordomo  to  sit 
down  and  have  something.  I did  not  do  it,  and  after- 
wards I was  glad  that  I did  not,  for  before  I left  the 
ranch  I realized  what  an  awful  breach  of  etiquette  I 
would  have  been  guilty  of. 

In  the  fields  we  found  gangs  of  men  and  boys,  some 
gangs  hoeing  the  weeds  from  between  the  gigantic 
plants  and  some  sawing  off  the  big  leaves  with  machetes. 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


29 


The  harvest  of  the  leaves  goes  on  unceasing  all  the 
twelve  months  of  the  year,  and  during  the  cycle  every 
plant  on  the  farm  is  gone  over  four  times.  Twelve 
leaves  are  usually  clipped,  the  twelve  largest,  the  thirty 
smallest  being  left  to  mature  for  another  three  months. 
The  workman  chops  off  the  leaf  at  its  root,  trims  the 
sharp  briars  off  the  two  edges,  trims  the  spear-like  tip, 
counts  the  leaves  1-eft  on  the  plant,  counts  the  leaves 
he  is  cutting,  piles  his  leaves  into  bundles,  and  finally 
carries  the  bundles  to  the  end  of  his  row,  where  they 
are  carted  away  on  a movable-track  mule-car  line. 

I found  the  ground  uneven  and  rocky,  a punishment 
for  the  feet,  the  henequen  leaves  thorny  and  treach- 
erous and  the  air  thick,  hot  and  choking,  though  the 
season  was  considered  a cool  one.  The  ragged,  bare- 
footed harvesters  worked  steadily,  carefully  and  with 
the  speed  of  better  paid  laborers  who  work  “by  the 
piece.”  They  were  working  “by  the  piece,”  too,  the 
reward  being  immunity  from  the  lash.  Here  and  there 
among  them  I saw  tired-looking  women  and  children, 
sometimes  little  girls  as  young  as  eight  or  ten.  Two 
thousand  leaves  a day  is  the  usual  stint  on  San  Antonio 
Yaxche.  On  other  plantations  I was  told  that  it  is 
sometimes  as  high  as  three  thousand. 

The  henequen  leaves,  once  cut,  are  carted  to  a large 
building  in  the  midst  of  the  farm  settlement,  where 
they  are  hoisted  in  an  elevator  and  sent  tumbling  down 
a long  chute  and  into  the  stripping  machine.  Here 
hungry  steel  teeth  tear  the  tough,  thick  leaves  to  pieces, 
and  the  result  is  two  products — a green  powder,  which 
is  refuse,  and  long  strands  of  greenish,  hair-like  fibre, 
which  is  henequen.  The  fibre  is  sent  on  a tramway  to 
the  drying  yard,  where  it  turns  the  color  of  the  sun. 
Then  it  is  trammed  back,  pressed  into  bales,  and  a few 


30 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


days  or  weeks  later  the  observer  will  see  it  at  Progreso, 
the  port  of  Yucatan,  twenty-five  miles  north  of  Merida, 
being  loaded  into  a steamship  flying  the  British  flag. 
The  United  States  buys  nearly  all  the  henequen  of 
Yucatan,  our  cordage  trust,  an  alleged  concern  of  Stand- 
ard Oil,  absorbing  more  than  half  of  the  entire  product. 

Eight  centavos  per  pound  was  the  1908  price  received 
for  sisal  hemp  in  the  bale.  One  slave  dealer  told  me 
that  the  production  cost  no  more  than  one. 

About  the  machinery  we  found  many  small  boys 
working.  In  the  drying  yard  we  found  boys  and  men. 
All  of  the  latter  impressed  me  with  their  listless  move- 
ments and  their  haggard,  feverish  faces.  This  was  ex- 
plained by  the  foreman  in  charge.  “When  the  men  are 
sick  we  let  them  work  here,”  he  said — “on  half  pay!” 

Such  was  the  men’s  hospital.  The  hospital  for  the 
women  we  discovered  in  a basement  of  one  of  the  main 
buildings.  It  was  simply  a row  of  windowless,  earthen- 
floor  rooms,  half-dungeons,  in  each  of  which  lay  one 
woman  on  a bare  board,  without  a blanket  to  soften  it. 

More  than  three  hundred  of  the  able-bodied  slaves 
spend  the  nights  in  a large  structure  of  stone  and  mortar, 
surrounded  by  a solid  wall  twelve  feet  high,  which  is 
topped  with  the  sharp  edges  of  thousands  of  broken 
glass  bottles.  To  this  inclosure  there  is  but  one  door, 
and  at  it  stands  a guard  armed  with  a club,  a sword 
and  a pistol.  These  are  the  quarters  of  the  unmarried 
men  of  the  plantation,  Mayas,  Yaquis  and  Chinese; 
also  of  the  “half-timers,”  slaves  whom  the  plantation 
uses  only  about  half  of  the  year,  married  men,  some 
of  them,  whose  families  live  in  little  settlements  border- 
ing on  the  farm. 

These  “half-timers”  are  found  on  only  about  one- 
third  of  the  plantations,  and  they  are  a class  which  has 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


31 


been  created  entirely  for  the  convenience  of  the  masters. 
They  become  “full-timers”  at  the  option  of  the  masters, 
and  are  then  permitted  to  keep  their  families  on  the 
plantations.  They  are  compelled  to  work  longer  than 
half  the  year  if  they  are  wanted,  and  during  the  time 
when  they  are  not  working  they  are  not  permitted  to 
go  away  on  a hunt  for  other  work.  Generally  their 
year’s  labor  is  divided  into  two  sections,  three  months 
in  the  spring  and  three  in  the  fall,  and  during  that  period 
they  cannot  go  to  visit  their  families.  They  are  always 
kept  in  jail  at  night,  they  are  fed  by  the  farm,  and  their 
credit  of  twelve  and  one-half  cents  per  day  is  kept  back 
and  doled  out  to  their  families  a little  at  a time  to  pre- 
vent starvation. 

A moment’s  figuring  will  show  that  the  yearly  credit 
for  a half-timer  who  works  six  months  is  $22.50,  and 
this  is  all — absolutely  all — that  the  family  of  the  half- 
time slave  has  to  live  on  each  year. 

Inside  the  large,  one-room  building  within  the  stone 
wall  at  San  Antonio  Yaxche  we  found,  swinging  so 
close  that  they  touched  one  another,  more  than  three 
hundred  rope  hammocks.  This  was  the  sleeping  place 
of  the  half-timers  and  the  unmarried  full-timers.  We 
entered  the  enclosure  just  at  dusk,  as  the  toilers,  wiping 
the  sweat  from  their  foreheads,  came  filing  in.  Behind 
the  dormitory  we  found  half  a dozen  women  working 
over  some  crude,  open-air  stoves.  Like  half-starved 
wolves  the  ragged  workers  ringed  about  the  simple 
kitchen,  grimy  hands  went  out  to  receive  their  meed  of 
supper,  and  standing  there  the  miserable  creatures  ate. 

I sampled  the  supper  of  the  slaves.  That  is,  I sam- 
pled a part  of  it  with  my  tongue,  and  the  rest,  which 
my  nostrils  warned  me  not  to  sample  with  my  tongue, 
I sampled  with  my  nostrils.  The  meal  consisted  of  two 


32 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


large  corn  tortillas , the  bread  of  the  poor  of  Mexico, 
a cup  of  boiled  beans,  unflavored,  and  a bowl  of  fish — 
putrid,  stinking  fish,  fish  that  reeked  with  an  odor  that 
stuck  in  my  system  for  days.  How  could  they  ever  eat 
it?  Ah,  well,  to  vary  a weary,  unending  row  of  meals 
consisting  of  only  beans  and  tortillas  a time  must  come 
when  the  most  refined  palate  will  water  to  the  touch  of 
something  different,  though  that  something  is  fish  which 
offends  the  heavens  with  its  rottenness. 

“Beans,  tortillas,  fish !”  I suppose  that  they  can  at 
least  keep  alive  on  it,”  I told  myself,  “provided  they  do 
no  worse  at  the  other  two  meals.”  “By  the  way,”  I 
turned  to  the  adminstrador,  who  was  showing  us  about, 
“what  do  they  get  at  the  other  two  meals?” 

“The  other  two  meals?”  The  administrador  was 
puzzled.  “The  other  two  meals  ? Why,  there  aren’t  any 
others.  This  is  the  only  meal  they  have !” 

Beans,  tortillas,  fish,  once  a day,  and  a dozen  hours 
under  the  hottest  sun  that  ever  shone ! 

“But,  no,”  the  administrador  corrected  himself.  “They 
do  get  something  else,  something  very  fine,  too,  some- 
thing that  they  can  carry  to  the  field  with  them  and  eat 
when  they  wish.  Here  is  one  now.” 

At  this  he  picked  up  from  one  of  the  tables  of  the 
women  a something  about  the  size  of  his  two  small  fists, 
and  handed  it  to  me,  triumphantly.  I took  the  round, 
soggy  mass  in  my  fingers,  pinched,  smelled  and  tasted 
it.  It  proved  to  be  corn  dough,  half  fermented  and 
patted  into  a ball.  This,  then,  was  the  other  two  meals, 
the  rest  of  the  substance  besides  beans,  tortillas  and 
decayed  fish  which  sustained  the  toilers  throughout  the 
long  day.  I turned  to  a young  Maya  who  was  carefully 
picking  a fish  bone. 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


33 


“Which  would  you  rather  be,”  I asked  of  him,  “a 
half-timer  or  a full-timer?” 

“A  full-timer,”  he  replied,  promptly,  and  then  in  a 
lower  tone:  “They  work  us  until  we  are  ready  to  fall, 

then  they  throw  us  away  to  get  strong  again.  If  they 
worked  the  full-timers  like  they  work  us  they  would 
die.” 

“We  come  to  work  gladly,”  said  another  young  Maya, 
“because  we’re  starved  to  it.  But  before  the  end  of  the 
first  week  we  want  to  run  away.  That  is  why  they 
lock  us  up  at  night.” 

“Why  don’t  you  run  away  when  you’re  free  to  do  it?” 
I asked.  “When  they  turn  you  out,  I mean?” 

The  administrador  had  stepped  away  to  scold  a wom- 
an. “It’s  no  use,”  answered  the  man  earnestly.  “They 
always  get  us.  Everybody  is  against  us  and  there  is 
no  place  to  hide.” 

“They  keep  our  faces  on  photographs,”  said  another. 
“They  always  get  us  and  give  us  a cleaning-up  (beat- 
ing) besides.  When  we’re  here  we  want  to  run  away, 
but  when  they  turn  us  out  we  know  that  it’s  no  use.” 

I was  afterwards  to  learn  how  admirably  the  Yucatan 
country  is  adapted  to  preventing  the  escape  of  run- 
aways. No  fruits  or  eatable  herbs  grow  wild  in  that 
rocky  land.  There  are  no  springs  and  no  place  where 
a person  can  dig  a well  without  a rock  drill  and  dyna- 
mite. So  every  runaway  in  time  finds  his  way  to  a 
plantation  or  to  the  city,  and  at  either  place  he  is  caught 
and  held  for  identification.  A free  laborer  who  does 
not  carry  papers  to  prove  that  he  is  free  is  always  liable 
to  be  locked  up  and  put  to  much  trouble  to  prove  that 
he  is  not  a runaway  slave. 

Yucatan  has  been  compared  to  Russia’s  Siberia.  “Si- 
beria,” Mexican  political  refugees  have  told  me,  “is  hell 


34 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


frozen  over;  Yucatan  is  hell  aflame.”  But  I did  not  see 
many  points  in  common  between  the  two  countries. 
True,  the  Yaquis  are  exiles  in  a sense,  and  political 
exiles  at  that,  but  they  are  also  slaves.  The  political 
exiles  of  Russia  are  not  slaves.  According  to  Kennan, 
they  are  permitted  to  take  their  families  with  them,  to 
choose  their  own  abode,  to  live  their  own  life,  and  are 
often  given  a small  monthly  stipend  on  which  to  live.  I 
could  not  imagine  Siberia  as  being  as  bad  as  Yucatan. 

The  Yucatan  slave  gets  no  hour  for  lunch,  as  does 
the  American  ranch  hand.  He  goes  to  the  field  in  the 
morning  twilight,  eating  his  lump  of  sour  dough  on  the 
way.  He  picks  up  his  machete  and  attacks  the  first 
thorny  leaf  as  soon  as  it  is  light  enough  to  see  the  thorns 
and  he  never  lays  down  that  machete  until  the  twilight 
of  the  evening.  Two  thousand  of  the  big  green  leaves 
a day  is  his  “stint,”  and  besides  cutting,  trimming  and 
piling  them,  he  must  count  them,  and  he  must  count  the 
number  of  leaves  on  each  plant  and  be  sure  that  he  does 
not  count  too  many  nor  too  few.  Each  plant  is  sup- 
posed to  grow  just  36  new  leaves  a year.  Twelve  of 
these,  the  12  largest,  are  cut  every  four  months,  but 
whatever  the  number  cut  just  30  leaves  must  be  left 
after  the  clipping.  If  the  slave  leaves  31  or  29  he  is 
beaten,  if  he  fails  to  cut  his  2,000  he  is  beaten,  if  he 
trims  his  leaves  raggedly  he  is  beaten,  if  he  is  late  at 
roll-call  he  is  beaten.  And  he  is  beaten  for  any  other 
little  shortcoming  that  any  of  the  bosses  may  imagine 
that  he  detects  in  his  character  or  in  his  make-up.  Si- 
beria? To  my  mind  Siberia  is  a foundling  asylum  com- 
pared to  Yucatan. 

Over  and  over  again  I have  compared  in  my  mind 
the  condition  of  the  slaves  of  Yucatan  with  what  I 
have  read  of  the  slaves  of  our  southern  states  before 


THE  SLAVES  OF  YUCATAN 


35 


the  Civil  War.  And  always  the  result  has  been  in  favor 
of  the  black  man.  Our  slaves  of  the  South  were  almost 
always  well  fed,  as  a rule  they  were  not  overworked,  on 
many  plantations  they  were  rarely  beaten,  it  was  usual  to 
give  them  a little  spending  money  now  and  then  and  to 
allow  them  to  leave  the  plantation  at  least  once  a week. 
Like  the  slaves  of  Yucatan  they  were  cattle  of  the  ranch, 
but,  unlike  the  former,  they  were  treated  as  well  as  cat- 
tle. In  the  South  before  the  War  there  were  not  so 
many  plantations  where  the  negroes  died  faster  than 
they  were  born.  The  lives  of  our  black  slaves  were  not 
so  hard  but  that  they  could  laugh,  sometimes — and  sing. 
But  the  slaves  of  Yucatan  do  not  sing! 

I shall  never  forget  my  last  day  in  Merida.  Merida 
is  probably  the  cleanest  and  most  beautiful  little  city  in  all 
Mexico.  It  might  even  challenge  comparison  in  its  white 
prettiness  with  any  other  in  the  world.  The  municipality 
has  expended  vast  sums  on  paving,  on  parks  and  on 
public  buildings,  and  over  and  above  this  the  henequen 
kings  not  long  since  made  up  a rich  purse  for  improve- 
ments extraordinary.  My  last  afternoon  and  evening 
in  Yucatan  I spent  riding  and  walking  about  the  wealthy 
residence  section  of  Merida.  Americans  might  expect 
to  find  nothing  of  art  and  architecture  down  on  this 
rocky  Central  American  peninsula,  but  Merida  has  its 
million  dollar  palaces  like  New  York,  and  it  has  miles  of 
them  set  in  miraculous  gardens. 

Wonderful  Mexican  palaces!  Wonderful  Mexican 
gardens!  A wonderful  fairyland  conjured  out  of 
slavery — slavery  of  Mayas,  and  of  Yaquis.  Among  the 
Yucatan  slaves  there  are  ten  Mayas  to  one  Yaqui,  but 
of  the  two  the  story  of  the  Yaquis  appealed  to  me  the 
more.  The  Mayas  are  dying  in  their  own  land  and 
with  their  own  people.  The  Yaquis  are  exiles.  They 


36 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


are  dying  in  a strange  land,  they  are  dying  faster,  and 
they  are  dying  alone,  away  from  their  families,  for 
every  Y aqui  family  sent  to  Yucatan  is  broken  up  on  the 
way.  Husbands  and  wives  are  torn  apart  and  babes  are 
taken  from  their  mothers’  breasts. 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS 

My  real  purpose  in  journeying  to  Yucatan  was  to  find 
out  what  became  of  the  Yaqui  Indians  of  Sonora.  In 
common  with  thousands  of  other  Americans  who  have 
lived  for  years  in  our  Southwest  and  near  the  border 
line  of  Mexico,  I knew  something  of  the  sufferings  of  the 
Yaquis  in  their  native  state,  of  the  means  which  had 
been  taken  to  stir  them  to  revolt,  of  the  confiscation  of 
their  lands,  of  the  methods  of  extermination  employed  by 
the  army,  of  the  indignation  voiced  by  the  decent  ele- 
ment of  Sonora,  finally  of  President  Diaz’s  sweeping 
order  of  deportation. 

I knew  that  the  order  of  deportation  was  being  car- 
ried out,  that  hundreds  of  families  were  being  gathered 
up  monthly  and  sent  away  into  exile.  But  what  fate 
was  awaiting  them  there  at  the  end  of  that  exile  road? 
The  answer  was  always  vague,  indefinite,  unsatisfactory. 
Even  well-informed  Mexicans  of  their  country’s  metrop- 
olis could  not  tell  me.  After  the  Yaqui  exiles  sailed 
from  the  port  of  Veracruz  the  curtain  dropped  upon 
them.  I went  to  Yucatan  in  order  to  witness,  if  possi- 
ble, the  final  act  in  the  life  drama  of  the  Yaqui  nation. 
And  I witnessed  it. 

The  Yaquis  are  being  exterminated  and  exterminated 
fast.  There  is  no  room  for  controversy  as  to  that;  the 
only  controversy  relates  to  whether  or  not  the  Yaquis 
deserve  to  be  exterminated.  It  is  undoubtedly  true  that 
a portion  of  their  number  have  persistently  refused  to 
accept  the  destiny  that  the  government  has  marked  out 
for  them.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  those  who 


37 


38 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


assert  that  the  Yaquis  are  as  worthy  as  other  Mexicans 
and  deserve  as  much  consideration  at  the  hands  of  their 
rulers. 

The  extermination  of  the  Yaquis  began  in  war;  its 
finish  is  being  accomplished  in  deportation  and  slavery. 

The  Yaquis  are  called  Indians.  Like  the  Mayas  of 
Yucatan,  they  are  Indians  and  yet  they  are  not  Indians. 
In  the  United  States  we  would  not  call  them  Indians, 
for  they  are  workers.  As  far  back  as  their  history  can 
be  traced  they  have  never  been  savages.  They  have 
been  an  agricultural  people.  They  tilled  the  soil,  dis- 
covered and  developed  mines,  constructed  systems  of 
irrigation,  built  adobe  towns,  maintained  public  schools, 
had  an  organized  government  and  their  own  mint.  When 
the  Spanish  missionaries  came  among  them  they  were 
in  possession  of  practically  the  whole  of  that  vast  ter- 
ritory south  of  Arizona  which  today  comprises  the  state 
of  Sonora. 

“They  are  the  best  workers  in  Sonora,”  Colonel  Fran- 
cisco B.  Cruz,  the  very  man  who  has  charge  of  their 
deportation  to  Yucatan,  and  of  whom  I will  have  more 
to  say  later,  told  me.  “One  Yaqui  laborer  is  worth 
two  ordinary  Americans  and  three  ordinary  Mexicans,” 
E.  F.  Trout,  a Sonora  mine  foreman  told  me.  “They 
are  the  strongest,  soberest  and  most  reliable  people  in 
Mexico,”  another  "one  told  me.  “The  government  is 
taking  our  best  workmen  away  from  us  and  destroying 
the  prosperity  of  the  state,”  said  another.  “The  govern- 
ment says  it  wants  to  open  up  the  Yaqui  country  for 
settlers,”  S.  R.  DeLong,  secretary  of  the  Arizona  His- 
torical Society  and  an  old  resident  of  Sonora,  told  me, 
“but  it  is  my  opinion  that  the  Yaquis  themselves  are  the 
best  settlers  that  can  possible  be  found.” 

Such  expressions  are  heard  very  frequently  in  Sonora, 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS  39 

in  the  border  states  and  in  border  publications.  The 
Yaqui  certainly  has  an  admirable  physical  development. 
During  my  journeys  in  Mexico  I learned  to  pick  him  out 
at  a glance,  by  his  broad  shoulders,  his  deep  chest,  his 
sinewy  legs,  his  rugged  face.  The  typical  Yaqui  is  al- 
most a giant,  the  race  a race  of  athletes.  Perhaps  that 
is  just  the  reason  why  he  has  not  bent  his  head  in  sub- 
mission to  the  will  of  the  masters  of  Mexico. 

American  mine-owners  and  railroad  men  of  Sonora 
are  repeatedly  complaining  against  the  deportation  of 
the  Yaquis,  and  it  is  because  they  are  such  good  work- 
men. Another  matter  which  I have  heard  much  re- 
marked about  by  border  Americans  is  the  regard  of  the 
so-called  renegade,  or  fighting  Yaquis,  for  the  property 
of  Americans  and  other  foreigners.  When  the  Yaquis 
first  took  up  arms  against  the  present  government  some 
twenty-five  years  ago  they  did  so  because  of  a definite 
grievance.  Usually  they  fought  on  the  defensive. 
Driven  to  the  mountains,  they  have  been  compelled  at 
times  to  sally  forth  and  plunder  for  their  stomachs’ 
sake.  But  for  many  years  it  was  known  to  all  men  that 
they  seldom  attacked  Americans  or  any  people  but 
Mexicans.  And  for  a long  time  they  never  committed 
any  depredations  on  railroads  or  railroad  property, 
which  in  Sonora  has  always  been  American. 

The  origin  of  the  Yaqui  troubles  is  generally  attrib- 
uted to  a plot  on  the  part  of  a number  of  politicians,  the 
purpose  being  to  get  possession  of  the  rich  lands  in 
Southern  Sonora  which  the  Yaquis  had  held  for  hun- 
dreds of  years.  For  twenty-four  years  past  the  only 
governors  Sonora  has  had  have  been  Ramon  Corral, 
now  Diaz’s  vice-president,  Rafael  Yzabal  and  Luis 
Torres.  These  three  have  rotated  in  office,  as  it  were, 
for  more  than  a generation.  As  no  popular  elections 


40 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


were  held  at  all,  these  three  friends  had  absolutely  no 
one  to  answer  to  except  President  Diaz,  and  their  au- 
thority in  Sonora  has  been  practically  absolute. 

The  Yaquis  seem  to  have  had  a pretty  good  title  to 
their  lands  when  Corral,  Yzabal  and  Torres  came  upon 
the  scene.  At  the  time  of  the  Spanish  conquest  they 
were  a nation  of  from  one  to  two  hundred  thousand  peo- 
ple, supposed  by  some  authorities  to  have  been  offshoots 
from  the  Aztecs.  The  Spanish  were  never  able  to  sub- 
due them  completely,  and  after  two  hundred  and  fifty 
troublous  years  a peace  was  entered  into  whereby  the 
Yaquis  gave  up  a part  of  their  territory  and,  as  ac- 
knowledgment of  their  rightful  ownership  of  the  rest 
of  it,  the  King  of  Spain  gave  them  a patent  signed  by 
his  own  hand.  This  was  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago,  but  the  royal  patent  was  honored  by  every 
ruler  and  chief  executive  of  Mexico  down  to  Diaz.  Dur- 
ing all  that  time  the  Yaquis  were  at  peace  with  the  world. 
Their  reputation  as  a naturally  peaceful  nation  was 
established.  It  remained  for  the  government  of  Diaz  to 
stir  them  into  war. 

During  these  years  of  peace  the  Yaquis  became  part 
and  parcel  of  the  Mexican  nation.  They  lived  like  other 
Mexicans.  They  had  their  own  personal  farms,  their 
own  homes,  and  they  paid  taxes  on  their  property  like 
other  Mexicans.  During  the  war  against  Maximilian 
they  sent  soldiers  to  help  Mexico,  and  many  of  them 
distinguished  themselves  by  brilliant  service. 

But  the  Yaquis  were  goaded  into  war.  The  men  at 
the  head  of  the  government  of  Sonora  wanted  the  Yaqui 
lands.  Moreover,  they  saw  an  opportunity  for  graft  in 
bringing  a large  body  of  soldiers  into  the  state.  So  they 
harassed  the  Yaquis.  They  sent  bogus  surveyors  through 
the  Yaqui  valley  to  mark  out  the  land  and  tell  the  peo- 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS  41 

pie  that  the  government  had  decided  to  give  it  to  for- 
eigners. They  confiscated  $80,000  in  a bank  belonging 
to  Chief  Cajeme.  Finally,  they  sent  armed  men  to  arrest 
Cajeme,  and  when  the  latter  could  not  find  him  they 
set  fire  to  his  house  and  to  those  of  his  neighbors,  and 
assaulted  the  women  of  the  village,  even  Cajeme’s  wife 
not  being  respected.  Finally,  the  victims  were  goaded 
into  war. 

Since  that  day  twenty-five  years  ago  the  Mexican  gov- 
ernment has  maintained  an  army  almost  perpetually  in 
the  field  against  the  Yaquis,  an  army  ranging  in  num- 
bers from  2,000  to  6,000  men.  Thousands  of  soldiers 
and  tens  of  thousands  of  Yaquis  have  been  killed  in  bat- 
tle and  many  hundreds  of  the  latter  have  been  executed 
after  being  taken  prisoners.  After  a few  years  Chief 
Cajeme  was  captured  and  publicly  executed  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a large  body  of  his  people  who  had  been  taken 
prisoner  with  him.  Tetabiate,  another  Yaqui,  was 
promptly  elected  to  Cajeme’s  place,  and  the  fight  went 
on.  Finally,  in  1894,  at  one  fell  swoop,  as  it  were,  the 
ground  was  literally  taken  from  under  the  feet  of  the 
rebels.  By  act  of  the  federal  government  the  best  of 
their  lands  were  taken  from  them  and  handed  over  to 
one  man,  General  Lorenzo  Torres,  who  is  at  this  writing 
chief  of  the  army  in  Sonora,  then  second  in  command. 

The  government  is  credited  with  having  been  guilty 
of  the  most  horrible  atrocities.  Two  examples  are  cited 
by  Santa  de  Cabora,  a Mexican  writer,  as  follows : 

“On  May  17,  1892,  General  Otero,  of  the  Mexican  army, 
ordered  the  imprisonment  of  the  Yaquis,  men,  women  and 
children,  in  the  town  of  Navajoa,  and  hung  so  many  of  these 
people  that  the  supply  of  rope  in  the  town  was  exhausted,  it 
being  necessary  to  use  each  rope  five  or  six  times.” 

“A  colonel  in  the  army,  Antonio  Rincon,  in  July,  of  1892, 
took  two  hundred  Yaauis.  men.  women  and  children,  prisoners. 


42 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


and  carried  them  in  the  gunboat  El  Democrata  and  dropped 
them  in  the  ocean  between  the  mouth  of  the  Yaqui  river  and 
the  seaport  of  Guaymas,  all  of  them  perishing.” 

A report  was  circulated  along  our  Mexican  border 
that  an  incident  similar  to  the  last  mentioned  happened 
in  February,  1908.  Colonel  Francisco  B.  Cruz,  who 
was  in  charge  of  the  exiles  and  who  claims  to  have  been 
on  board  of  the  gunboat  and  witnessed  the  incident,  de- 
clared to  me,  however,  that  this  report  was  not  true. 
The  Yaquis  were  drowned,  he  declared,  but  not  by  the 
authorities,  and,  since  at  that  time  the  government  was 
not  killing  any  Yaquis  whom  it  could  catch  and  sell,  I 
accept  the  version  of  Colonel  Cruz  as  the  correct  one. 

“Suicide — nothing  but  suicide,”  asseverated  the  Colo- 
nel. “Those  Indians  wanted  to  cheat  me  out  of  my  com- 
mission money  and  so  they  threw  their  children  into  the 
sea  and  jumped  in  after  them.  I was  on  board  myself 
and  saw  it  all.  I heard  a loud  cry,  and  looking,  saw 
some  of  the  crew  running  to  the  starboard  side  of  the 
vessel.  I saw  the  Yaquis  in  the  water.  Then  there  was 
a cry  from  the  port  side  and  I saw  the  Yaquis  jumping 
overboard  on  that  side.  We  lowered  boats,  but  it  was 
no  use ; they  all  went  down  before  we  got  to  them.” 

“Every  soldier  who  kills  a Yaqui,”  an  army  physician 
who  served  two  years  with  the  troops  against  the  Yaquis 
and  whom  I met  in  Mexico  City,  told  me,  “is  paid  a re- 
ward of  one  hundred  dollars.  To  prove  his  feat  the 
soldier  must  show  the  ears  of  his  victim.  ‘Bring  in  the 
ears,’  is  the  standing  order  of  the  officers.  Often  I 
have  seen  a company  of  soldiers  drawn  up  in  a square 
and  one  of  their  number  receiving  one  hundred  dollars 
for  a pair  of  ears. 

“Sometimes  small  squads  of  the  Indians  are  cap- 
tured, and  when  I was  with  the  army  it  was  customary 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS  43 

to  offer  the  men  freedom  and  money  to  lead  the  troops 
over  the  secret  mountain  trails  to  the  fastnesses  of  their 
friends.  The  alternative  was  the  rope,  yet  I never  knew 
of  one  of  these  captives  turning  traitor.  ‘Give  me  the 
rope,’  they  would  cry,  and  I have  seen  such  a man  run, 
put  the  rope  round  his  own  neck  and  demand  that  it  be 
tightened  quickly,  that  he  might  not  again  be  subjected 
to  so  base  an  insult.” 

I have  before  me  a letter  signed  by  G.  G.  Lelevier,  a 
former  member  of  the  Mexican  Liberal  Party  and  editor 
of  one  of  their  papers  in  the  United  States.  Lelevier  is 
said  to  have  afterwards  gone  over  to  the  cause  of  the 
government.  Commenting  on  a photograph  showing  a 
lot  of  Yaquis  hanging  from  a tree  in  Sonora,  the  let- 
ter says : 

“This  picture  resembles  very  much  another  one  that 
was  taken  at  the  Yaqui  river  when  General  Angel  Mar- 
tinez was  in  command  of  the  Mexican  army  of  occu- 
pation. It  was  the  custom  of  this  general  to  hang  men  be- 
cause they  could  not  tell  him  where  the  insurrecto  Yaquis 
were  at  the  time,  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  lasso  the 
women  of  the  Yaquis  and  to  hang  them  also.  It  went 
on  so  until  the  chief  of  the  geographical  commission  re- 
ported the  facts  to  the  City  of  Mexico  and  threatened  to 
resign  if  the  practice  continued.  Then  this  monster  of  a 
general  was  removed. 

‘‘But  later  on  Governor  Rafael  Ysabal — it  must  have 
been  in  1902 — made  a raid  on  Tiburon  Island  where 
some  peaceful  Yaquis  had  taken  refuge,  and  then  and 
there  ordered  the  Seri  Indians  to  bring  to  him  the 
right  hand  of  every  Yaqui  there,  with  the  alternative  of 
the  Seris  themselves  being  exterminated.  Doctor  Boido 
took  a snapshot  with  a kodak,  and  you  could  see  in  it 
the  governor  laughing  at  the  sight  of  a bunch  of  hands 


44 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


that  had  been  brought  to  him  and  that  were  dangling 
from  the  end  of  a cane.  This  picture  was  even  pub- 
lished in  derision  of  the  exploits  of  Governor  Ysabal 
in  the  newspaper  El  Impartial,  of  Mexico  City.” 

In  1898  the  government  troops  were  armed  for  the 
first  time  with  the  improved  Mauser  rifle,  and  in  that 
year  they  met  and  wiped  out  an  army  of  Yaquis  at 
Mazacoba,  the  killed  numbering  more  than  1,000.  This 
ended  warfare  on  anything  like  an  equal  footing.  There 
were  no  more  large  battles;  the  Yaqui  warriors  were 
merely  hunted.  Thousands  of  the  Indians  surrendered. 
Their  leaders  were  executed,  and  they  and  their  fami- 
lies were  granted  a new  territory  to  the  north,  to  which 
they  journeyed  as  to  a promised  land.  But  it  proved  to 
be  a barren  desert,  entirely  waterless  and  one  of  the 
most  uninhabitable  spots  in  all  America.  Hence  the 
peaceful  Yaquis  moved  to  other  sections  of  the  state, 
some  of  them  becoming  wage-workers  in  the  mines, 
others  finding  employment  on  the  railroads,  and  still 
others  becoming  peons  on  the  farms.  Then  and  there 
this  portion  of  the  Yaqui  nation  lost  its  identity  and 
became  merged  with  the  peoples  about  it.  But  it  is 
these  Yaquis,  the  peaceful  ones,  who  are  sought  out  and 
deported  to  Yucatan. 

A few  Yaquis,  perhaps  four  or  five  thousand,  refused 
to  give  up  the  battle  for  their  lands.  The  found  inac- 
cessible peaks  and  established  a stronghold  high  up  in 
the  Bacetete  mountains,  which  border  upon  their  former 
home.  Here  flow  never-ceasing  springs  of  cold  water. 
Here,  on  the  almost  perpendicular  cliffs,  they  built  their 
little  homes,  planted  their  corn,  raised  their  families  and 
sang,  sometimes,  of  the  fertile  valleys  which  once  were 
theirs.  The  army  of  several  thousand  soldiers  still 
hunted  them.  The  soldiers  could  not  reach  those  moun- 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS  45 

tain  heights,  but  they  could  wait  for  the  Indians  in  the 
gorges  and  shoot  them  as  they  came  down  in  search  of 
meat,  of  clothes,  and  of  other  comforts  which  they 
yearned  to  add  to  their  existence. 

Many  small  bands  of  these  so-called  renegades  have 
been  killed.  Others  have  been  captured  and  executed. 
Rumors  of  peace  have  traveled  the  rounds  only  to  prove 
untrue  a little  later.  Peace  conferences  with  the  gov- 
ernment have  been  held,  but  have  failed  because  the 
“renegades”  could  secure  no  guarantee  that  they  would 
not  be  either  executed  or  deported  after  they  laid  down 
their  arms.  In  January,  1909,  the  report  was  officially 
sent  out  by  Governor  Torres  that  Chief  Buie  and  sev- 
eral hundred  of  his  warriors  had  surrendered  on  con- 
ditions. But  later  troubles  showed  this  announcement 
to  have  been  premature.  There  are  at  least  a few  hun- 
dred Yaquis  among  those  Bacetete  crags.  They  refuse 
to  surrender.  They  are  outlaws.  They  are  cut  off  from 
the  world.  They  have  no  connection  with  the  peaceful 
element  of  their  nation  that  is  scattered  all  over  the  state 
of  Sonora.  Yet  the  existence  of  this  handful  of  “rene- 
gades” is  the  only  excuse  the  Mexican  government  has 
for  gathering  up  peaceful  Mexican  families  and  deport- 
ing them — at  the  rate  of  500  per  month ! 

Why  should  a lot  of  women  and  children  and  old  men 
be  made  to  suffer  because  some  of  their  fourth  cousins 
are  fighting  away  off  there  in  the  hills  ? The  army  physi- 
cian with  whom  I talked  in  Mexico  City  answered  the 
question  in  very  energetic  terms. 

“The  reason?”  he  said.  “There  is  no  reason.  It  is 
only  an  excuse.  The  excuse  is  that  the  workers  con- 
tribute to  the  support  of  the  fighters.  If  it  is  true,  it 
is  true  only  in  an  infinitesimal  minority  of  cases,  for  the 
vast  majority  of  the  Yaquis  are  entirely  out  of  touch 


46 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


with  the  fighters.  There  may  be  a few  guilty  parties, 
but  absolutely  no  attempt  is  made  to  find  them  out. 
For  what  a handful  of  patriotic  Yaquis  may  possibly  be 
doing  tens  of  thousand  are  made  to  suffer  and  die.  It 
is  as  if  a whole  town  were  put  to  the  torch  because  one 
of  its  inhabitants  had  stolen  a horse.” 

The  deportation  of  Yaquis  to  Yucatan  and  other  slave 
sections  of  Mexico  began  to  assume  noticeable  propor- 
tions about  1905.  It  was  carried  out  on  a small  scale 
at  first,  then  on  a larger  one. 

Finally,  in  the  spring  of  1908,  a despatch  was  pub- 
lished in  American  and  Mexican  newspapers  saying  that 
President  Diaz  had  issued  a sweeping  order  decreeing 
that  every  Yaqui,  wherever  found,  men  women  and  chil- 
dren, should  be  gathered  up  by  the  War  Department 
and  deported  to  Yucatan. 

During  my  journeys  in  Mexico  I inquired  many  times 
as  to  the  authenticity  of  this  despatch,  and  the  story  was 
confirmed.  It  was  confirmed  by  men  in  the  public  de- 
partments of  Mexico  City.  It  was  confirmed  by  Colo- 
nel Cruz,  chief  deporter  of  Yaquis.  And  it  is  certain 
that  such  an  order,  wherever  it  may  have  come  from, 
was  carried  out.  Yaqui  workingmen  were  taken  daily 
from  mines,  railroads  and  farms,  old  workingmen  who 
never  owned  a rifle  in  their  lives,  women,  children,  babes, 
the  old  and  the  young,  the  weak  and  the  strong.  Guarded 
by  soldiers  and  rurales  they  traveled  together  over  the 
exile  road.  And  there  are  others  besides  Yaquis  who 
traveled  over  that  road.  Pimas  and  Opatas,  other  In- 
dians, Mexicans,  and  any  dark  people  found  who  were 
poor  and  unable  to  protect  themselves  were  taken,  tagged 
as  Yaquis,  and  sent  away  to  the  land  of  henequen.  What 
becomes  of  them  there?  That  is  what  I went  to  Yuca- 
tan to  find  out. 


THE  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  YAQUIS  47 

The  secret  that  lies  at  the  roots  of  the  whole  Yaqui 
affair  was  revealed  to  me  and  the  whole  matter  summed 
up  in  a few  words  by  Colonel  Francisco  B.  Cruz  of  the 
Mexican  army,  in  one  of  the  most  remarkable  interviews 
which  I obtained  during  my  entire  trip  to  Mexico. 

For  the  past  four  years  this  officer  has  been  in  immedi- 
ate charge  of  transporting  all  the  Yaqui  exiles  to  Yuca- 
tan. I was  fortunate  enough  to  take  passage  on  the 
same  steamer  with  him  returning  from  Progreso  to 
Veracruz.  He  is  a stout,  comfortable,  talkative  old  cam- 
paigner of  about  sixty  years.  The  steamship  people  put 
us  in  the  same  stateroom,  and,  as  the  colonel  had  some 
government  passes  which  he  hoped  to  sell  me,  we  were 
soon  on  the  most  confidential  terms. 

“In  the  past  three  and  one-half  years,”  he  told  me,  “I 
have  delivered  just  fifteen  thousand  seven  hundred  Ya- 
quis  in  Yucatan — delivered,  mind  you,  for  you  must  re- 
member that  the  government  never  allows  me  enough  ex- 
pense money  to  feed  them  properly,  and  from  ten  to 
twenty  per  cent  die  on  the  journey. 

“These  Yaquis,”  he  said,  “sell  in  Yucatan  for  $65 
apiece — men,  women  and  children.  Who  gets  the  money  ? 
Well,  $10  goes  to  me  for  my  services.  The  rest  is  turned 
over  to  the  Secretary  of  War.  This,  however,  is  only 
a drop  in  the  bucket,  for  I know  this  to  be  a fact,  that 
every  foot  of  land,  every  building,  every  cow,  every 
burro,  everything  left  behind  by  the  Yaquis  when  they 
are  carried  away  by  the  soldiers,  is  appropriated  for  the 
private  use  of  authorities  of  the  state  of  Sonora.” 

So  according  to  this  man,  who  has  himself  made  at 
least  $157,000  out  of  the  business,  the  Yaquis  are  de- 
ported for  the  money  there  is  in  it — first,  the  money 
from  the  appropriation  of  their  property,  second,  the 
money  from  the  sale  of  their  bodies.  He  declared  to  me 


48 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


that  the  deportations  would  never  stop  until  the  last 
possible  dollar  had  been  squeezed  out  of  the  business. 
The  company  of  officials  who  have  rotated  in  office  in 
Sonora  for  the  past  twenty-five  years  would  see  to  that, 
he  said. 

These  little  confidences  of  the  colonel  were  given  me 
merely  as  bits  of  interesting  gossip  to  a harmless  for- 
eigner. He  had  no  notion  of  exposing  the  officials  and 
citizens  whose  names  he  mentioned.  He  expressed  no 
objection  whatever  to  the  system,  rather  gloried  in  it. 

“In  the  past  six  months,”  the  fat  colonel  told  me,  “I 
have  handled  three  thousand  Yaquis — five  hundred  a 
month.  That’s  the  capacity  of  the  government  boats 
between  Guaymas  and  San  Bias,  but  I hope  to  see  it  in- 
creased before  the  end  of  the  year.  I have  just  been 
given  orders  to  hurry  1,500  more  to  Yucatan  as  quickly 
as  I can  get  them  there.  Ah,  yes,  I ought  to  have  a com- 
fortable little  fortune  for  myself  before  this  thing  is 
over,  for  there  are  at  least  100,000  more  Yaquis  to  come! 

“One  hundred  thousand  more  to  come!”  he  repeated 
at  my  exclamation.  “Yes,  one  hundred  thousand,  if 
one.  Of  course,  they’re  not  all  really  Yaquis,  but — ” 

And  President  Diaz’s  chief  deporter  of  Sonora  work- 
ing-people lolling  there  upon  the  deck  of  the  freight 
steamer  passed  me  a smile  which  was  illuminating,  ex- 
ceedingly illuminating — yes,  terribly  illuminating! 


SCENE  IN  A YAQL'I  " BULL  PEN-'  ON  THE  EXILE  ROAD  BETWEEN  SONORA  AND  YUCATAN 


CHAPTER  III 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 

Yaquis  traveling  to  Yucatan,  after  arriving  at  the  port 
of  Guaymas,  Sonora,  embark  on  a government  war  ves- 
sel for  the  port  of  San  Bias.  After  a journey  of  four 
or  five  days  they  are  disembarked  and  are  driven  by  foot 
over  some  of  the  roughest  mountains  in  Mexico,  from 
San  Bias  to  Tepic  and  from  Tepic  to  San  Marcos.  As 
the  crow  flies  the  distance  is  little  more  than  one  hun- 
dred miles;  as  the  road  winds  it  is  twice  as  far,  and  re- 
quires from  fifteen  to  twenty  days  to  travel.  “Bull  pens,” 
or  concentration  camps,  are  provided  all  along  the  route, 
and  stops  are  made  at  the  principal  cities.  All  families 
are  broken  up  on  the  way,  the  chief  points  at  which  this 
is  done  being  Guaymas,  San  Marcos,  Guadalajara  and 
Mexico  City.  From  San  Marcos  the  unfortunates  are 
carried  by  train  over  the  Mexican  Central  Railway  to 
Mexico  City  and  from  Mexico  City  over  the  Interna- 
tional Railway  to  V eracruz.  Here  they  are  bundled  into 
one  of  the  freight  steamers  of  the  “National”  company, 
and  in  from  two  to  five  days  are  disembarked  at  Pro- 
greso and  turned  over  to  the  waiting  consignees. 

On  the  road  to  Yucatan  the  companion  of  my  jour- 
neys, L.  Gutierrez  DeLara,  and  I,  saw  gangs  of  Yaqui 
exiles,  saw  them  in  the  “bull  pen”  in  the  midst  of  the 
army  barracks  in  Mexico  City ; finally  we  joined  a party 
of  them  at  Veracruz  and  traveled  with  them  on  ship 
from  Veracruz  to  Progreso. 

There  were  104  of  them  shoved  into  the  unclean  hole 
astern  of  the  freight  steamer  Sinaloa,  on  which  we  em- 
barked. We  thought  it  might  be  difficult  to  obtain  the 


49 


50 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


opportunity  to  visit  this  unclean  hole,  but,  luckily,  we 
were  mistaken.  The  guard  bent  readily  to  friendly 
words,  and  before  the  ship  was  well  under  way  my 
companion  and  I were  seated  on  boxes  in  the  hold  with 
a group  of  exiles  gathered  about  us,  some  of  them,  to- 
bacco-famished, pulling  furiously  at  the  cigarettes  which 
we  had  passed  among  them,  others  silently  munching  the 
bananas,  apples  and  oranges  which  we  had  brought. 

There  were  two  old  men  past  fifty,  one  of  them  small, 
active,  sharp-featured,  talkative,  dressed  in  American 
overalls,  jumper,  shoes  and  slouch  hat,  with  the  face 
and  manner  of  a man  bred  to  civilization ; the  other,  tall, 
silent,  impassive,  wrapped  to  the  chin  in  a gay  colored 
blanket,  the  one  comfort  he  had  snatched  from  his  few 
belongings  as  the  soldiers  were  leading  him  away.  There 
was  a magnificent  specimen  of  an  athlete  under  thirty, 
with  a wizened  baby  girl  of  two  held  in  the  crook  of  one 
arm,  an  aggressive-faced  woman  of  forty  against  whom 
was  closely  pressed  a girl  of  ten  shivering  and  shaking 
in  the  grasp  of  a malarial  attack,  two  overgrown  boys 
who  squatted  together  in  the  background  and  grinned 
half  foolishly  at  our  questions,  bedraggled  women, 
nearly  half  of  them  with  babies,  and  an  astonishingly 
large  number  of  little  chubby-faced,  bare-legged  boys 
and  girls  who  played  uncomprehendingly  about  the  floor 
or  stared  at  us  from  a distance  out  of  their  big  solemn 
black  eyes. 

“Revolutionists?”  I asked  of  the  man  in  overalls  and 
jumper. 

“No;  workingmen.” 

“Yaquis  ?” 

“Yes,  one  Yaqui,”  pointing  to  his  friend  in  the  blanket. 
“The  rest  are  Pimas  and  Opatas.” 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


51 


“Then  why  are  you  here?” 

“Ah,  we  are  all  Yaquis  to  General  Torres.  It  makes 
no  difference  to  him.  You  are  dark.  You  dress  in  my 
clothes  and  you  will  be  a Yaqui — to  him.  He  makes  no 
investigation,  asks  no  questions — only  takes  you.” 

“Where  are  you  from  ?”  I asked  of  the  old  man. 

“Most  of  us  are  from  Ures.  They  took  us  in  the 
night  and  carried  us  away  without  allowing  us  to  make 
up  bundles  of  our  belongings.” 

“I  am  from  Horcasitas,”  spoke  up  the  young  athlete 
with  the  babe  on  his  arm.  “I  was  plowing  in  the  field 
when  they  came,  and  they  did  not  give  me  time  to  un- 
hitch my  oxen.” 

“Where  is  the  mother  of  your  baby?”  I inquired  cu- 
riously of  the  young  father. 

“Dead  in  San  Marcos,”  he  replied,  closing  his  teeth 
tight.  “That  three  weeks’  tramp  over  the  mountains 
killed  her.  They  have  allowed  me  to  keep  the  little 
one — so  far.” 

“Did  any  of  you  make  resistance  when  the  soldiers 
came  to  take  you?”  I asked. 

“No,”  answered  the  old  man  from  Ures.  “We  went 
quietly ; we  did  not  try  to  run  away.”  Then  with  a 
smile : “The  officers  found  more  trouble  in  looking  after 
their  men,  their  privates,  to  prevent  them  from  running 
away,  from  deserting,  than  they  did  with  us. 

“We  were  one  hundred  and  fifty-three  at  the  start,  we 
of  Ures,”  went  on.  the  old  man.  “Farm  laborers,  all  of 
us.  We  worked  for  small  farmers,  poor  men,  men  with 
not  more  than  half  a dozen  families  each  in  their  em- 
ploy. One  day  a government  agent  visited  the  neighbor- 
hood and  ordered  the  bosses  to  give  an  account  of  all 
their  laborers.  The  bosses  obeyed,  but  they  did  not 
know  what  it  meant  until  a few  days  later,  when  the 


52 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


soldiers  came.  Then  they  knew,  and  they  saw  ruin 
coming  to  them  as  well  as  to  us.  They  begged  the  offi- 
cers, saying:  ‘This  is  my  peon.  He  is  a good  man.  He 
has  been  with  me  for  twenty  years.  I need  him  for  the 
harvest.’  ” 

“It  is  true,”  broke  in  the  woman  with  the  ague- 
stricken  child.  “We  were  with  Carlos  Romo  for  twenty- 
two  years.  The  night  we  were  taken  we  were  seven; 
now  we  are  two.” 

“And  we  were  with  Eugenio  Morales  for  sixteen 
years,”  spoke  another  woman. 

“Yes,”  went  on  the  spokesman,  “our  bosses  followed 
us,  begging,  but  it  was  no  use.  Some  of  them  followed 
us  all  the  way  to  Hermosillo.  There  was  Manuel  Gan- 
dara,  and  Jose  Juan  Lopez,  and  Franco  Tallez,  and  Eu- 
genio Morales  and  the  Romo  brothers,  Jose  and  Carlos. 
You  will  find  them  there  now  and  they  will  tell  you  that 
what  we  say  is  true.  They  followed  us,  but  it  was  no 
use.  They  had  to  go  back  and  call  vainly  at  our  empty 
houses  for  laborers.  We  were  stolen — and  they  were 
robbed ! 

“They  died  on  the  way  like  starving  cattle,”  went  on 
the  old  man  from  Ures.  “When  one  fell  ill  he  never 
got  well  again.  One  woman  was  deathly  sick  at  the 
start.  She  begged  to  be  left  behind,  but  they  wouldn’t 
leave  her.  She  was  the  first  to  fall — it  happened  on  the 
train  between  Hermosillo  and  Guaymas. 

“But  the  crudest  part  of  the  trail  was  between  San 
Bias  and  San  Marcos.  Those  women  with  babies!  It 
was  awful ! They  dropped  down  in  the  dust  again  and 
again.  Two  never  got  up  again,  and  we  buried  them 
ourselves  there  beside  the  road.” 

“There  were  burros  in  San  Bias,”  interrupted  a 
woman,  “and  mules  and  horses.  Oh,  why  didn’t  they 


BAND  OF  YAQUIS  ON  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


53 


let  us  ride?  But  our  men  were  good.  When  the  little 
legs  of  the  ninos  were  weary  our  men  carried  them  on 
their  backs.  And  when  the  three  women  who  were  far 
gone  in  pregnancy  could  walk  no  more  our  men  made 
stretchers  of  twigs  and  carried  them,  taking  turns.  Yes, 
our  men  were  good,  but  now  they  are  gone.  We  do 
not  see  them  any  more!” 

“The  soldiers  had  to  tear  me  away  from  my  husband,” 
said  another,  “and  when  I cried  out  they  only  laughed. 
The  next  night  a soldier  came  and  tried  to  take  hold  of 
me,  but  I pulled  off  my  shoes  and  beat  him  with  them. 
Yes,  the  soldiers  bothered  the  women  often,  especially 
that  week  we  starved  in  Mexico  City,  but  always  the 
women  fought  them  back.” 

“I  have  a sister  in  Yucatan,”  said  a young  woman  un- 
der twenty.  “Two  years  ago  they  carried  her  away. 
As  soon  as  we  arrive  I shall  try  to  find  her.  We  will 
keep  each  other  company,  now  that  they  have  taken 
my  husband  from  me.  Tell  me,  is  it  so  terribly  hot  in 
Yucatan  as  they  say  it  is?  I do  not  like  hot  weather, 
yet  if  they  will  only  let  me  live  with  my  sister  I will  not 
mind.” 

“To  whom  do  all  these  bright  little  tads,  these  mu- 
chachos,  all  of  the  same  size,  belong?”  I inquired. 

“Quicn  sabe?”  answered  an  old  woman.  “Their 
parents  are  gone,  just  as  are  our  babes.  They  take  our 
children  from  us  and  give  us  the  children  of  strangers. 
And  when  we  begin  to  love  the  new  ones,  they  take 
them  away,  too.  Do  you  see  that  woman  huddled  over 
there  with  her  face  in  her  hands?  They  took  her  four 
little  boys  at  Guadalajara  and  left  her  nothing.  Myself? 
Yes,  they  took  my  husband.  For  more  than  thirty  years 
we  had  never  been  parted  for  a single  night.  But  that 
made  no  difference ; he  is  gone.  Yet  perhaps  I am  lucky ; 


54 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


I still  have  my  daughter.  Do  you  think,  though,  that 
we  may  meet  our  husbands  again  in  Yucatan?” 

As  we  breasted  the  Veracruz  lighthouse,  the  shoulder 
of  a Norther  heaved  itself  against  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
the  ocean  streamed  in  at  the  lower  portholes  and  the 
quarters  of  the  unhappy  exiles  were  flooded  with  water. 
They  fled  for  the  deck,  but  here  were  met  by  flying 
sheets  of  rain,  which  drove  them  back  again.  Between 
the  flooded  hold  and  the  flooded  poop  the  exiles  spent 
the  night,  and  when,  early  the  next  morning,  as  we  drove 
into  the  Coatzacoalcos  river,  I strolled  aft  again,  I saw 
them  lying  about  the  deck,  all  of  them  drenched  and 
shivering,  some  of  them  writhing  in  the  throes  of  acute 
seasickness. 

We  steamed  thirty  miles  up  the  Coatzacoalcos  river, 
then  anchored  to  the  shore  and  spent  a day  loading  jun- 
gle bulls  for  the  tough  beef  market  of  New  Orleans. 
Two  hundred  ordinary  cattle  may  be  coaxed  through  a 
hole  in  the  side  of  a ship  in  the  space  of  two  hours,  but 
these  bulls  were  as  wild  as  wolves,  and  each  had  to  be 
half  butchered  before  he  would  consent  to  walk  in  the 
straight  and  narrow  way.  Once  inside,  and  ranged  along 
the  two  sides  of  the  vessel,  they  fought,  trampled  each 
other,  bawled  as  loud  as  steam  whistles,  and  in  a num- 
ber of  instances  broke  their  head  ropes  and  smashed 
through  the  flimsy  railing  which  had  been  erected  to 
prevent  them  from  over-running  other  portions  of  the 
lower  deck.  In  a bare  space  at  the  stern  of  the  vessel, 
surrounded  on  three  sides  by  plunging,  bawling  bulls, 
were  the  quarters  of  the  “Yaquis.”  It  was  stay  there 
and  run  the  risk  of  being  trampled,  or  choose  the  un- 
sheltered deck.  For  the  remaining  four  days  of  the 
journey,  one  of  which  we  spent  waiting  for  the  Norther 
to  pass,  the  “Yaquis”  chose  the  deck. 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


55 


At  last  we  arrived  at  Progreso.  As  we  entered  the 
train  for  Merida  we  saw  our  friends  being  herded  into 
the  second  class  coaches.  They  left  us  at  the  little  sta- 
tion of  San  Ignacio,  on  their  way  to  a plantation  belong- 
ing to  Governor  Olegario  Molina,  and  we  saw  them  no 
more. 

In  Yucatan  I soon  learned  what  becomes  of  the  Yaqui 
exiles.  They  are  sent  to  the  henequen  plantations  as 
slaves,  slaves  on  almost  exactly  the  same  basis  as  are  the 
100,000  Mayas  whom  I found  on  the  plantations.  They  are 
held  as  chattels,  they  are  bought  and  sold,  they  receive 
no  wages,  but  are  fed  on  beans,  tortillas  and  putrid  fish. 
They  are  beaten,  sometimes  beaten  to  death.  They  are 
worked  from  dawn  until  night  in  the  hot  sun  beside  the 
Mayas.  The  men  are  locked  up  at  night.  The  women 
are  required  to  marry  Chinamen  or  Mayas.  They  are 
hunted  when  they  run  away,  and  are  brought  back  by 
the  police  if  they  reach  a settlement.  Families,  broken 
up  in  Sonora  or  on  the  way,  are  never  permitted  to  re- 
unite. After  they  once  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  planter 
the  government  cares  no  more  for  them,  takes  no  more 
account  of  them.  The  government  has  received  its 
money,  and  the  fate  of  the  Yaquis  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  planter. 

I saw  many  Yaquis  in  Yucatan.  I talked  with  them. 
I saw  them  beaten.  One  of  the  first  things  that  I saw 
on  a Yucatan  plantation  was  the  beating  of  a Yaqui. 
His  name  was  Rosanta  Bajeca. 

The  act,  though  not  intentionally  so,  perhaps,  was  the- 
atrically staged.  It  was  at  3 :45  o’clock  in  the  morning, 
just  after  roll-call  of  the  slaves.  The  slave  gang  was 
drawn  up  in  front  of  the  plantation  store,  the  fitful  rays 
of  the  lanterns  sputtering  high  on  the  store  front  play- 
ing uncertainly  over  their  dusky  faces  and  dirty  white 


56 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


forms.  There  were  seven  hundred  of  them.  Now  and 
then  a brighter  lantern  beam  shot  all  the  way  to  the  tow- 
ering tropical  trees,  which,  standing  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
walled  in  the  grass-grown  patio.  Under  the  hanging 
lanterns  and  facing  the  ragged  band  stood  the  adminis- 
trador,  or  general  manager,  the  mayordomo  primero,  or 
superintendent,  and. the  lesser  bosses,  the  mayordomos 
secundos,  the  majacol  and  the  capataces. 

“Rosanta  Bajeca!” 

The  name,  squeaked  out  by  the  voice  of  the  adminis- 
trador,  brought  from  the  crowd  a young  Yaqui,  medium- 
sized, sinewy-bodied,  clean-featured,  with  well-formed 
head  erect  on  square  shoulders,  bony  jaw  fixed,  dark, 
deep  set  eyes  darting  rapidly  from  one  side  to  another 
of  the  circle  which  surrounded  him,  like  a tiger  forced 
out  of  the  jungle  and  into  the  midst  of  the  huntsmen. 

“Off  with  your  shirt!”  rasped  the  administrador,  and 
at  the  words  superintendent  and  foremen  ringed  closer 
about  him.  One  reached  for  the  garment,  but  the  Yaqui 
fended  the  hand,  then  with  the  quickness  of  a cat, 
dodged  a cane  which  swished  at  his  bare  head  from  the 
opposite  direction.  For  one  instant — no  more — with  the 
hate  of  his  eyes  he  held  the  circle  at  bay,  then  with  a 
movement  of  consent  he  waved  them  back,  and  with  a 
single  jerk  drew  the  shirt  over  his  head  and  bared  his 
muscular  bronze  body,  scarred  and  discolored  from  pre- 
vious beatings,  for  the  whip.  Submissive  but  dignified 
he  stood  there,  for  all  the  world  like  a captive  Indian 
chief  of  a hundred  years  ago,  contemptuously  awaiting 
the  torture  of  his  enemies. 

Listlessly  the  waiting  slaves  looked  on.  A regiment 
of  toil,  they  stood  half  a dozen  deep,  with  soiled  calico 
trousers  reaching  half  way  to  the  ankles  or  rolled  to  the 
knees,  shirts  of  the  same  material  with  many  gaping 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


57 


mouths  showing  the  bare  bronze  skin  beneath,  bare  legs, 
bare  feet,  battered  grass  hats  held  deferentially  in  the 
hands — a tatterdemalion  lot,  shaking  the  sleep  from  their 
eyes,  blinking  at  the  flickering  lanterns.  Three  races 
there  were,  the  sharp-visaged,  lofty-browed  Maya,  abo- 
rigine of  Yucatan,  the  tall,  arrow-backed  Chinaman  and 
the  swarthy,  broad-fisted  Yaqui  from  Sonora. 

At  a third  command  of  the  administrador  there 
stepped  from  the  host  of  waiting  slaves  a giant  Chinese. 
Crouching,  he  grasped  the  wrists  of  the  silent  Yaqui. 
The  next  moment  he  was  standing  straight  with  the 
Yaqui  on  his  back  in  the  manner  of  a tired  child  being 
carried  by  one  of  its  elders. 

Not  one  of  that  throng  who  did  not  know  what  was 
coming,  yet  not  until  a capataz  reached  for  a bucket 
hanging  high  on  the  store  front  did  there  come  a ten- 
sion of  nerves  among  those  seven  hundred  men.  The 
whipper  extraordinary,  known  as  a majocol,  a deep- 
chested,  hairy  brute,  bent  over  the  bucket  and  soused 
his  hands  deep  into  the  water  within.  Withdrawing 
them,  he  held  high  for  inspection  four  dripping  ropes, 
each  three  feet  long.  The  thick  writhing  things  in  the 
dim  lamplight  seemed  like  four  bloated  snakes,  and  at 
sight  of  them  the  tired  backs  of  the  ragged  seven  hun- 
dred straightened  with  a jerk  and  an  involuntary  gasp 
rippled  over  the  assemblage.  Laggard  slumber,  though 
unsated,  dropped  from  their  eyes.  At  last  all  were 
awake,  wide  awake. 

The  ropes  were  of  native  henequen  braided  tight  and 
thick  and  heavy  for  the  particular  purpose  in  hand. 
Water-soaked,  to  give  them  more  weight  and  cutting 
power,  they  were  admirably  fitted  for  the  work  of 
“cleaning  up,”  the  term  whereby  corporal  punishment 
is  known  on  the  plantations  of  Yucatan. 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  hairy  majocol  selected  one  of  the  four,  tossed 
back  the  remaining  three,  the  pail  was  carried  away  and 
the  giant  Chinaman  squared  off  with  the  naked  body  of 
the  victim  to  the  gaze  of  his  fellow  bondsmen.  The 
drama  was  an  old  one  to  them,  so  old  that  their  eyes 
must  have  ached  many  times  at  the  sight,  yet  for  them 
it  could  never  lose  its  fascination.  Each  knew  that  his 
own  time  was  coming,  if  it  had  not  already  come,  and 
not  one  possessed  the  physical  power  to  turn  his  back 
upon  the  spectacle. 

Deliberately  the  majocol  measured  his  distance,  then 
as  deliberately  raised  his  arm  high  and  brought  it  swiftly 
down  again;  the  bloated  snake  swished  through  the  air 
and  fell  with  a spat  across  the  glistening  bronze  shoul- 
ders of  the  Yaqui! 

The  cidministrador,  a small,  nervous  man  of  many  ges- 
tures, nodded  his  approval  and  glanced  at  his  watch,  the 
mayordomo,  big,  stolid,  grinned  slowly,  the  half  dozen 
ca  pat  aces  leaned  forward  a little  more  obliquely  in  their 
eagerness,  the  regiment  of  slaves  swayed  bodily  as  by 
some  invisible  force,  and  a second  gasp,  painful  and 
sharp  like  the  bursting  air  from  a severed  windpipe, 
escaped  them. 

Every  eye  was  riveted  tight  upon  that  scene  in  the 
uncertain  dimness  of  the  early  morning — the  giant  Chi- 
naman, bending  slightly  forward  now,  the  naked  body 
upon  his  shoulders,  the  long,  uneven,  livid  welt  that 
marked  the  visit  of  the  wet  rope,  the  deliberate,  the  ago- 
nizingly deliberate  majocol , the  administrador,  watch  in 
hand,  nodding  endorsement,  the  grinning  mayordomo, 
the  absorbed  capataces. 

All  held  their  breath  for  the  second  blow.  I held  my 
breath  with  the  rest,  held  it  for  ages,  until  I thought 
the  rope  would  never  fall.  Not  until  I saw  the  finger 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


59 


signal  of  the  administrador  did  I know  that  the  blows 
were  delivered  by  the  watch  and  not  until  it  was  all  over 
did  I know  that,  in  order  to  multiply  the  torture,  six 
seconds  were  allowed  to  intervene  between  each  stroke. 

The  second  blow  fell,  and  the  third,  and  the  fourth. 
I counted  the  blows  as  they  fell,  ages  apart.  At  the 
fourth  the  strong  brown  skin  broke  and  little  pin-heads 
of  crimson  pushed  themselves  out,  burst,  and  started 
downward  in  thin  tricklets.  At  the  sixth  the  glistening 
back  lost  its  rigidity  and  fell  to  quivering  like  a jelly- 
fish. At  the  ninth  a low  whine  somewhere  in  the  depths 
of  that  Yaqui,  found  its  devious  way  outward  and  into 
the  open.  Oh,  that  whine!  I hear  it  now,  a hard,  hard 
whine,  as  if  indurated  to  diamond  hardness  by  drilling 
its  way  to  the  air  through  a soul  of  adamant. 

At  last  the  spats  ceased — there  were  fifteen — the  ad- 
ministrador, with  a final  nod,  put  away  his  watch,  the 
giant  Chinaman  released  his  grip  on  the  brown  wrists 
and  the  Yaqui  tumbled  in  a limp  heap  to  the  ground. 
He  lay  there  for  a moment,  his  face  in  his  arms,  his 
quivering,  bleeding  flesh  to  the  sky,  then  a foreman 
stepped  forward  and  put  a foot  roughly  against  his 
hip. 

The  Yaqui  lifted  his  head,  disclosing  to  the  light  a 
pair  of  glazed  eyes  and  a face  twisted  with  pain.  A mo- 
ment later  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  staggered  forward  to 
join  his  fellow  bondsmen.  In  that  moment  the  spell  of 
breathless  silence  on  the  seven  hundred  snapped,  the 
ranks  moved  in  agitation  and  there  rose  a hum  of  low 
speech  from  every  section  of  the  crowd.  The  special 
“cleaning  up”  of  the  morning  was  over.  Five  minutes 
later  the  day’s  work  on  the  farm  had  begun. 

Naturally  I made  inquiries  about  Rosanta  Bajeca  to 
find  out  what  crime  he  had  committed  to  merit  fifteen 


60 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


lashes  of  the  wet  rope.  I ascertained  that  he  had  been 
only  a month  in  Yucatan,  and  but  three  days  before  had 
been  put  in  the  field  with  a harvesting  gang  to  cut  and 
trim  the  great  leaves  of  the  henequen  plant.  Two  thou- 
sand a day  was  the  regular  stint  for  each  slave,  and 
Bajeca  had  been  given  three  days  in  which  to  acquire 
the  dexterity  necessary  to  harvest  the  required  number 
of  leaves.  He  had  failed.  Hence  the  flogging.  There 
had  been  no  other  fault. 

“It’s  a wonder,”  I remarked  to  a capataz,  “that  this 
Yaqui  did  not  tear  himself  from  the  back  of  the  China- 
man. It’s  a wonder  he  did  not  fight.  He  seems  like  a 
brave  man ; he  has  the  look  of  a fighter.” 

The  capataz  chuckled. 

“One  month  ago  he  was  a fighter,”  was  the  reply, 
“but  a Yaqui  learns  many  things  in  a month  in  Yucatan. 
Still,  there  was  a time  when  we  thought  this  dog  would 
never  learn.  Now  and  then  they  come  to  us  that  way; 
they  never  learn;  they’re  never  worth  the  money  that’s 
paid  for  them.” 

“Tell  me  about  this  one,”  I urged. 

“He  fought;  that’s  all.  The  day  he  came  he  was  put 
to  work  loading  bundles  of  leaves  onto  the  elevator 
which  leads  to  the  cleaning  machine.  The  mayordomo — 
yes,  the  mayordomo  primero — happened  along  and 
punched  the  fellow  in  the  stomach  with  his  cane.  A 
half  minute  later  a dozen  of  us  were  struggling  to  pull 
that  Yaqui  wolf  away  from  the  throat  of  the  mayordomo. 
We  starved  him  for  a day  and  then  dragged  him  out  for 
a cleaning  up.  But  he  fought  with  his  fingers  and  with 
his  teeth  until  a capataz  laid  him  out  with  the  blunt 
edge  of  a machete.  After  that  he  tasted  the  rope  daily 
for  a while,  but  every  day  for  no  less  than  a week  the 
fool  fought  crazily  on  until  he  kissed  the  earth  under 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


61 


the  weight  of  a club.  But  our  majocol  never  faltered. 
That  majocol  is  a genius.  He  conquered  the  wolf.  He 
wielded  the  rope  until  the  stubborn  one  surrendered,  un- 
til that  same  Yaqui  came  crawling,  whimpering,  on  hands 
and  knees  and  licked  with  his  naked  tongue  the  hand  of 
the  man  who  had  beaten  him!” 

During  my  travels  in  Yucatan  I was  repeatedly 
struck  with  the  extremely  human  character  of  the  peo- 
ple whom  the  Mexican  government  calls  Yaquis.  The 
Yaquis  are  Indians,  they  are  not  white,  yet  when  one 
converses  with  them  in  a language  mutually  understood 
one  is  struck  with  the  likenesses  of  the  mental  processes 
of  White  and  Brown.  I was  early  convinced  that  the 
Yaqui  and  I were  more  alike  in  mind  than  in  color.  I 
became  convinced,  too,  that  the  family  attachments  of 
the  Yaqui  mean  quite  as  much  to  the  Yaqui  as  the  fam- 
ily attachments  of  the  American  mean  to  the  American. 
Conjugal  fidelity  is  the  cardinal  virtue  of  the  Yaqui 
home  and  it  seems  to  be  so  not  because  of  any  tribal 
superstition  of  past  times  or  because  of  any  teachings 
of  priests,  but  because  of  a constitutional  tenderness 
sweetened  more  and  more  with  the  passing  of  the  years, 
for  the  one  with  whom  he  had  shared  the  meat  and  the 
shelter  and  the  labor  of  life,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of 
existence. 

Over  and  over  again  I saw  this  exemplified  on  the  ex- 
ile road  and  in  Yucatan.  The  Yaqui  woman  feels  as 
keenly  the  brutal  snatching  away  of  her  babe  as  would 
the  cultivated  American  woman.  The  heart-strings  of 
the  Yaqui  wife  are  no  more  proof  against  a violent  and 
unwished-for  separation  from  her  husband  than  would 
be  the  heart-strings  of  the  refined  mistress  of  a beauti- 
ful American  home. 

The  Mexican  government  forbids  divorce  and  re- 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


marriage  within  its  domain,  but  for  the  henequen  plant- 
ers of  Yucatan  all  things  are  possible.  To  a Yaqui 
woman  a native  of  Asia  is  no  less  repugnant  than  he  is 
to  an  American  woman,  yet  one  of  the  first  barbarities 
the  henequen  planter  imposes  upon  the  Yaqui  slave 
woman,  freshly  robbed  of  the  lawful  husband  of  her 
bosom,  is  to  compel  her  to  marry  a Chinaman  and  live 
with  him! 

“We  do  that,”  explained  one  of  the  planters  to  me, 
“in  order  to  make  the  Chinamen  better  satisfied  and  less 
inclined  to  run  away.  And  besides  we  know  that  every 
new  babe  born  on  the  place  will  some  day  be  worth  any- 
where from  $500  to  $1,000  cash!” 

The  cultivated  white  woman,  you  say,  would  die  of 
the  shame  and  the  horror  of  such  conditions.  But  so 
does  the  brown  woman  of  Sonora.  No  less  a personage 
than  Don  Enrique  Camara  Zavala,  president  of  the 
“Camara  de  Agricola  de  Yucatan,”  and  a millionaire 
planter  himself,  told  me : 

“If  the  Yaquis  last  out  the  first  year  they  generally 
get  along  all  right  and  make  good  workers,  but  the 
trouble  is,  at  least  two-thirds  of  them  die  off  in  the  first 
tzvclve  months!” 

On  the  ranch  of  one  of  the  most  famous  henequen 
kings  we  found  about  two  hundred  Yaquis.  One-third 
of  these  were  men,  who  were  quartered  with  a large 
body  of  Mayas  and  Chinamen.  Entirely  apart  from 
these,  and  housed  in  a row  of  new  one-room  huts,  each 
set  in  a tiny  patch  of  uncultivated  land,  we  discovered 
the  Y’aqui  women  and  children. 

We  found  them  squatting  around  on  their  bare  floors 
or  nursing  an  open-air  fire  and  a kettle  just  outside  the 
back  door.  We  found  no  men  among  them,  Yaquis  or 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


63 


Chinamen,  for  they  had  arrived  only  one  month  before — 
all  of  them — from  Sonora. 

In  one  house  we  found  as  many  as  fourteen  inmates. 
There  was  a woman  past  fifty  with  the  strength  of  an 
Indian  chief  in  her  face  and  with  words  which  went  to 
the  mark  like  an  arrow  to  a target.  There  was  a com- 
fortable, home-like  woman  with  a broad,  pock-marked 
face,  pleasant  words  and  eyes  which  kindled  with 
friendliness  despite  her  troubles.  There  were  two  woman 
who  watched  their  fire  and  listened  only.  There  was  a 
girl  of  fifteen,  a bride  of  four  months,  but  now  alone, 
a wonderfully  comely  girl  with  big  eyes  and  soft  mouth, 
who  sat  with  her  back  against  the  wall  and  smiled  and 
smiled — until  she  cried.  There  was  a sick  woman  who 
lay  on  the  floor  and  groaned  feebly  but  never  looked  up, 
and  there  were  eight  children. 

“Last  week  we  were  fifteen,”  said  the  home-like 
woman,  “but  one  has  already  gone.  They  never  get 
well.”  She  reached  over  and  gently  stroked  the  hair  of 
the  sister  who  lay  on  the  floor. 

“Were  you  all  married  ?”  I asked. 

“All,”  nodded  the  old  woman  with  the  face  of  a chief. 

“And  where  are  they  now  ?” 

“Quicn  sabef”  And  she  searched  our  eyes  deep  for 
the  motive  of  our  questions. 

“I  am  a Papago,”  reassured  De  Lara.  “We  are  friends.” 

“You  are  not  working,”  I remarked.  “What  are  you 
doing  ?” 

“Starving,”  said  the  old  woman. 

“We  get  that  once  a week — for  all  of  us,”  explained 
the  home-like  one,  nodding  at  three  small  chunks  of  raw 
beef — less  than  a five-cent  stew  in  the  United  States — 
which  had  just  been  brought  from  the  plantation  store. 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“Besides  that  we  get  only  corn  and  black  beans  and  not 
half  enough  of  either  of  them.” 

“We  are  like  hogs;  we  are  fed  on  corn,”  put  in  the 
old  woman.  “In  Sonora  we  made  our  tortillas  of  wheat.” 

“How  long  will  they  starve  you  ?”  I asked. 

“Until  we  marry  Chinamen,”  flashed  the  old  woman, 
unexpectedly. 

“Yes,”  confirmed  the  home-like  one.  “Twice  they  have 
brought  the  Chinamen  before  us,  lined  them  up,  and 
said:  ‘Choose  a man.’  Twice.” 

“And  why  didn’t  you  choose?” 

This  question  several  of  the  women  answered  in  cho- 
rus. In  words  and  wry  faces  they  expressed  their  ab- 
horrence of  the  Chinamen,  and  with  tremulous  earnest- 
ness assured  us  that  they  had  not  yet  forgotten  their 
own  husbands. 

“I  begged  them,”  said  the  old  woman,  “to  let  me  off. 
I told  them  I was  too  old,  that  it  was  no  use,  that  I was 
a woman  no  longer,  but  they  said  I must  choose,  too. 
They  will  not  let  me  off;  they  say  I will  have  to  choose 
with  the  rest.” 

“Twice  they  have  lined  us  up,”  reiterated  the  home- 
like one,  “and  said  we  must  choose.  But  we  wouldn’t 
choose.  One  woman  chose,  but  when  she  saw  the  rest 
hang  back  she  pushed  the  man  away  from  her.  They 
threatened  us  with  the  rope,  but  still  we  hung  back. 
They  will  give  us  but  one  more  chance,  they  say.  Then 
if  we  do  not  choose,  they  will  choose  for  us.  And  if  we 
do  not  consent  we  will  be  put  in  the  field  and  worked  and 
whipped  like  the  men.” 

“And  get  twelve  centavos  a day  (six  cents  American) 
to  live  on,”  said  the  old  woman.  “Twelve  centavos  a 
day  with  food  at  the  store  twice  as  dear  as  in  Sonora!” 

“Next  Sunday  morning  they  will  make  us  choose,”  re- 


OVER  THE  EXILE  ROAD 


65 


peated  the  home-like  woman.  “And  if  we  don’t  choose — ” 

“Last  Sunday  they  beat  that  sister  there,”  said  the  old 
woman.  “She  swore  she’d  never  choose,  and  they  beat 
her  just  like  they  beat  the  men.  Come,  Refugio,  show 
them  your  back.” 

But  the  woman  at  the  fire  shrank  away  and  hung  her 
head  in  mortification. 

“No,  no,”  she  protested,  then  after  a moment  she  mut- 
tered: “When  the  Yaqui  men  are  beaten  they  die  of 
shame,  but  the  women  can  stand  to  be  beaten ; they  can- 
not die.” 

“It’s  true,”  nodded  the  old  woman,  “the  men  die  of 
shame  sometimes — and  sometimes  they  die  of  their  own 
will.” 

When  we  turned  the  talk  to  Sonora  and  to  the  long 
journey  the  voices  of  the  women  began  to  falter.  They 
were  from  Pilares  de  Teras,  where  are  situated  the  mines 
of  Colonel  Garcia.  The  soldiers  had  come  in  the  day- 
time while  the  people  were  in  the  field  picking  the  ripe 
corn  from  the  stalks.  They  had  been  taken  from  their 
harvest  labor  and  compelled  to  walk  all  the  way  to  Her- 
mosillo,  a three  weeks’  tramp. 

The  Yaqui  love  for  the  one  who  suckled  them  is 
strong,  and  several  of  the  younger  women  recounted  the 
details  of  the  parting  from  the  mother.  Then  we  spoke 
of  their  husbands  again,  but  they  held  their  tears  until 
I asked  the  question : “How  would  you  like  to  go  back 
with  me  to  your  homes  in  Sonora?” 

That  opened  the  flood-gates.  The  tears  started  first 
down  the  plump  cheeks  of  the  cheery,  home-like  woman, 
then  the  others  broke  in,  one  at  a time,  and  at  last  the 
listening  children  on  the  floor  were  blubbering  dolefully 
with  their  elders.  Weeping,  the  unhappy  exiles  lost  their 
last  modicum  of  reserve.  They  begged  us  please  to  take 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


them  back  to  Sonora  or  to  find  their  husbands  for  them. 
The  old  woman  implored  us  to  get  word  to  her  boss, 
Leonardo  Aguirre,  and  would  not  be  content  until  I had 
penned  his  name  in  my  note-book.  The  bashful  woman 
at  the  fire,  aching  for  some  comforting,  hopeful  words, 
parted  her  dress  at  the  top  and  gave  us  a glimpse  of  the 
red  marks  of  the  lash  upon  her  back. 

I looked  into  the  face  of  my  companion;  the  tears 
were  trickling  down  his  cheeks.  As  for  me,  I did  not 
cry.  I am  ashamed  now  that  I did  not  cry ! 

Such  is  the  life  of  the  Yaqui  nation  in  its  last  chapter. 
When  I looked  upon  those  miserable  creatures  there  I 
said:  “There  can  be  nothing  worse  than  this.”  But 

when  I saw  Valle  Nacional  I said:  “This  is  worse  than 
Yucatan.” 


CHAPTER  IV 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL 

Valle  Nacional  is  undoubtedly  the  worst  slave  hole  in 
Mexico.  Probably  it  is  the  worst  in  the  world.  When 
I visited  Valle  Nacional  I expected  to  find  it  milder  than 
Yucatan.  I found  it  more  pitiless. 

In  Yucatan  the  Maya  slaves  die  off  faster  than  they 
are  born  and  two-thirds  of  the  Yaqui  slaves  are  killed 
during  the  first  year  after  their  importation  into  the 
country.  In  Valle  Nacional  all  of  the  slaves,  all  but  a 
very  few — perhaps  five  per  cent — pass  back  to  earth 
within  a space  of  seven  or  eight  months. 

This  statement  is  almost  unbelievable.  I would  not 
have  believed  it ; possibly  not  even  after  I had  seen  the 
whole  process  of  working  them  and  beating  them  and 
starving  them  to  death,  were  it  not  the  fact  that  the 
masters  themselves  told  me  that  it  was  true.  And  there 
are  fifteen  thousand  of  these  Valle  Nacional  slaves — 
fifteen  thousand  new  ones  every  year! 

“By  the  sixth  or  seventh  month  they  begin  to  die  off 
like  flies  at  the  first  winter  frost,  and  after  that  they’re 
not  worth  keeping.  The  cheapest  thing  to  do  is  to  let 
them  die;  there  are  plenty  more  where  they  came  from.” 

Word  for  word,  this  is  a statement  made  to  me  by 
Antonio  Pla,  general  manager  of  one-third  the  tobacco 
lands  in  Valle  Nacional. 

“I  have  been  here  for  more  than  five  years  and  every 
month  I see  hundreds  and  sometimes  thousands  of  men, 
women  and  children  start  over  the  road  to  the  valley,  but 
I never  see  them  come  back.  Of  every  hundred  who  go 
over  the  road  not  more  than  one  ever  sees  this  town 


67 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


again.”  This  assertion  was  made  to  me  by  a station 
agent  of  the  Veracruz  al  Pacifico  railroad. 

“There  are  no  survivors  of  Valle  Nacional — no  real 
ones,”  a government  engineer  who  has  charge  of  the 
improvement  of  certain  harbors  told  me.  “Now  and 
then  one  gets  out  of  the  valley  and  gets  beyond  El  Hule. 
He  staggers  and  begs  his  way  along  the  weary  road  to- 
ward Cordoba,  but  he  never  gets  back  where  he  came 
from.  Those  people  come  out  of  the  valley  walking 
corpses,  they  travel  on  a little  way  and  then  they  fall.” 

This  man’s  work  has  carried  him  much  into  Valle 
Nlacional  and  he  knows  more  of  the  country,  probably, 
than  does  any  Mexican  not  directly  interested  in  the 
slave  trade. 

“They  die ; they  all  die.  The  bosses  never  let  them  go 
until  they’re  dying.” 

Thus  declared  one  of  the  police  officers  of  the  town 
of  Valle  Nacional,  which  is  situated  in  the  center  of  the 
valley  and  is  supported  by  it. 

And  everywhere  over  and  over  again  I was  told  the 
same  thing.  Even  Manuel  Lagunas,  prcsidcnte  (mayor) 
of  Valle  Nacional,  protector  of  the  planters  and  a slave 
owner  himself,  said  it.  Miguel  Vidal,  secretary  of  the 
municipality,  said  it.  The  bosses  themselves  said  it.  The 
Indian  dwellers  of  the  mountain  sides  said  it.  The  slaves 
said  it.  And  when  I had  seen,  as  well  as  heard,  I was 
convinced  that  it  was  the  truth. 

The  slaves  of  Valle  Nacional  are  not  Indians,  as  are 
the  slaves  of  Yucatan.  They  are  Mexicans.  Some  are 
skilled  artizans.  Others  are  artists.  The  majority  of 
them  are  common  laborers.  As  a whole,  except  for  their 
rags,  their  bruises,  their  squalor  and  their  despair,  they 
are  a very  fair  representation  of  the  Mexican  people. 
They  are  not  criminals.  Not  more  than  ten  per  cent  were 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  69 

even  charged  with  any  crime.  The  rest  of  them  are 
peaceful,  law-abiding  citizens.  Yet  not  one  came  to  the 
valley  of  his  own  free  will,  not  one  would  not  leave  the 
valley  on  an  instant’s  notice  if  he  or  she  could  get  away. 

Do  not  entertain  the  idea  that  Mexican  slavery  is  con- 
fined to  Yucatan  and  Valle  Nacional.  Conditions  simi- 
lar to  those  of  Valle  Nacional  are  the  rule  in  many  sec- 
tions of  Diaz-land,  and  especially  in  the  states  south  of 
the  capital.  I cite  Valle  Nacional  because  it  is  most  no- 
torious as  a region  of  slaves,  and  because,  as  I have  al- 
ready suggested,  it  presents  just  a little  bit  the  worst  ex- 
ample of  chattel  slavery  that  I know  of. 

The  secret  of  the  extreme  conditions  of  Valle  Nacional 
is  mainly  geographical.  Valle  Nacional  is  a deep  gorge 
from  two  to  five  miles  wide  and  twenty  miles  long 
tucked  away  among  almost  impassable  mountains  in  the 
extreme  northwestern  corner  of  the  state  of  Oaxaca. 
Its  mouth  is  fifty  miles  up  the  Papaloapan  river  from  El 
Hule,  the  nearest  railroad  station,  yet  it  is  through  El 
Hide  that  every  human  being  passes  in  going  to  or  com- 
ing from  the  valley.  There  is  no  other  practical  route 
in,  no  other  one  out.  The  magnificent  tropical  moun- 
tains which  wall  in  the  valley  are  covered  with  an  im- 
penetrable jungle  made  still  more  impassable  by  jaguars, 
pumas  and  gigantic  snakes.  Moreover,  there  is  no  wagon 
road  to  Valle  Nacional;  only  a river  and  a bridle  path — 
a bridle  path  which  carries  one  now  through  the  jungle, 
now  along  precipitous  cliffs  where  the  rider  must  dis- 
mount and  crawl,  leading  his  horse  behind  him,  now 
across  the  deep,  swirling  current  of  the  river.  It  takes 
a strong  swimmer  to  cross  this  river  at  high  water,  yet 
a pedestrian  must  swim  it  more  than  once  in  order  to 
get  out  of  Valle  Nacional. 

The  equestrian  must  cross  it  five  times — four  times  in 


70 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


a canoe  alongside  which  his  mount  swims  laboriously, 
once  by  fording,  a long  and  difficult  route  over  which 
large  rocks  must  be  avoided  and  deep  holes  kept  away 
from.  The  valley  itself  is  as  flat  as  a floor,  clear  of  all 
rank  growth,  and  down  its  gentle  slope  winds  the  Papa- 
loapan  river.  The  valley,  the  river  and  its  rim  form  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  sights  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to 
look  upon. 

Valle  Nacional  is  three  days’  journey  from  Cordoba, 
two  from  El  Hide.  Stray  travelers  sometimes  get  as  far 
as  Tuztepec,  the  chief  city  of  the  political  district,  but 
no  one  goes  on  to  Valle  Nacional  who  has  not  business 
there.  It  is  a tobacco  country,  the  most  noted  in  Mex- 
ico, and  the  production  is  carried  on  by  about  thirty  large 
plantations  owned  and  operated  almost  exclusively  by 
Spaniards.  Between  El  Hide  and  the  head  of  the  valley 
are  four  towns,  Tuztepec,  Chiltepec,  Jacatepec  and  Valle 
Nacional,  all  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  all  pro- 
vided with  policemen  to  hunt  runaway  slaves,  not  one 
of  whom  can  get  out  of  the  valley  without  passing  the 
towns.  Tuztepec,  the  largest,  is  provided  with  ten  po- 
licemen and  eleven  rurales  (mounted  country  police). 
Besides,  every  runaway  slave  brings  a reward  of  $10 
to  the  man  or  policeman  who  catches  and  returns  him 
to  his  owner. 

Thus  it  will  be  understood  how  much  the  geograph- 
ical isolation  of  Valle  Nacional  accounts  for  its  being 
just  a little  worse  than  most  other  slave  districts  of 
Mexico.  Combined  with  this  may  be  mentioned  the 
complete  understanding  that  is  had  with  the  government 
and  the  nearness  to  a practically  inexhaustible  labor 
market. 

Just  as  in  Yucatan,  the  slavery  of  Valle  Nacional  is 
merely  peonage,  or  labor  for  debt,  carried  to  the  extreme, 


TYPE  OF  “ ENGANCHADO " OK  PLANTATION  SLAVE 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  71 

although  outwardly  it  takes  a slightly  different  form — 
that  of  contract  labor. 

The  origin  of  the  conditions  of  Valle  Nacional  was 
undoubtedly  contract  labor.  The  planters  needed  la- 
borers. They  went  to  the  expense  of  importing  labor- 
ers with  the  understanding  that  the  laborers  would  stay 
with  their  jobs  for  a given  time.  Some  laborers  tried 
to  jump  their  contracts  and  the  planters  used  force  to 
compel  them  to  stay.  The  advance  money  and  the  cost 
of  transportation  was  looked  upon  as  a debt  which  the 
laborer  could  be  compelled  to  work  out.  From  this  it 
was  only  a step  to  so  ordering  the  conditions  of  labor 
that  the  laborer  could  under  no  circumstances  ever  hope 
to  get  free.  In  time  Valle  Nacional  became  a word  of 
horror  with  the  working  people  of  all  Mexico.  They  re- 
fused to  go  there  for  any  price.  So  the  planters  felt 
compelled  to  tell  them  they  were  going  to  take  them 
somewhere  else.  From  this  it  was  only  a step  to  play- 
ing the  workman  false  all  round,  to  formulating  a con- 
tract not  to  be  carried  out,  but  to  help  get  the  laborer 
into  the  toils.  Finally,  from  this  it  was  only  a step  to 
forming  a business  partnership  with  the  government, 
whereby  the  police  power  should  be  put  into  the  hands 
of  the  planters  to  help  them  carry  on  a traffic  in  slaves. 

The  planters  do  not  call  their  slaves  slaves.  They 
call  them  contract  laborers.  I call  them  slaves  because 
the  moment  they  enter  Valle  Nacional  they  become  the 
personal  property  of  the  planter  and  there  is  no  law  or 
government  to  protect  them. 

In  the  first  place  the  planter  buys  his  slave  for  a given 
sum.  Then  he  works  him  at  will,  feeds  or  starves  him 
to  suit  himself,  places  armed  guards  over  him  day  and 
night,  beats  him,  pays  him  no  money,  kills  him,  and  the 
laborer  has  no  recourse.  Call  it  by  another  name  if  it 


74 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


out,  and  then  they  find  that  they  are  indeed  prisoners. 
They  are  told  that  they  are  in  debt  and  will  be  held  until 
they  work  out  their  debt.  A few  days  later  the  door 
opens  and  they  file  out.  They  find  that  ruralcs  are  all 
about  them.  They  are  marched  through  a back  street 
to  a railroad  station,  where  they  are  put  upon  the  train. 
They  try  to  get  away,  but  it  is  no  use ; they  are  prisoners. 
In  a few  days  they  are  in  Valle  Nacional. 

Usually  the  laborer  caught  in  this  way  is  taken  through 
the  formality  of  signing  a contract.  He  is  told  that  he 
is  to  get  a good  home,  good  food,  and  one,  two  or  three 
dollars  a day  wages  for  a period  of  six  months  or  a year. 
A printed  paper  is  shoved  under  his  nose  and  the  engan- 
cliandor  rapidly  points  out  several  alluring  sentences 
written  thereon.  A pen  is  put  quickly  into  his  hand  and 
he  is  told  to  sign  in  a hurry.  The  five  dollars  advance 
fee  is  given  him  to  clinch  the  bargain  and  put  him  in  debt 
to  the  agent.  He  is  usually  given  a chance  to  spend  this, 
or  a part  of  it,  usually  for  clothing  or  other  necessaries 
in  order  that  he  may  be  unable  to  pay  it  back  when  he 
discovers  that  he  has  been  trapped.  The  blanks  on  the 
printed  contract — fixing  the  wages,  etc. — are  usually 
filled  out  afterwards  by  the  labor  agent  or  the  consignee. 

In  Mexico  City  and  other  large  centers  of  population 
there  are  permanently  maintained  places  called  casas  de 
los  enganchadores  (houses  of  the  snarers).  They  are 
regularly  known  to  the  police  and  to  large  slave  buyers 
of  the  hot  lands.  Yet  they  are  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  private  jails  into  which  are  enticed  laborers,  who 
are  held  there  against  their  will  until  such  time  as  they 
are  sent  away  in  gangs  guarded  by  the  police  powers  of 
the  government. 

A third  method  employed  by  the  labor  agent  is  out- 
right kidnapping.  I have  heard  of  many  cases  of  the 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  75 

kidnapping  of  women  and  of  men.  Hundreds  of  half- 
drunken  men  are  picked  up  about  the  pulque  shops  of 
Mexico  City  every  season,  put  under  lock  and  key,  and 
later  hurried  off  to  Valle  Nacional.  Children,  also,  are 
regularly  kidnapped  for  the  Valle  Nacional  trade.  The 
official  records  of  Mexico  City  say  that  during  the  year 
ending  September  1,  1908,  360  little  boys  between  the 
ages  of  six  and  twelve  disappeared  on  the  streets.  Some 
of  these  have  later  been  located  in  Valle  Nacional. 

During  my  first  Mexican  trip  El  Imparcial,  a leading 
daily  newspaper  of  Mexico,  printed  a story  of  a boy  of 
seven  who  had  disappeared  while  his  mother  was  looking 
into  the  windows  of  a pawn  shop.  A frantic  search  failed 
to  locate  him;  he  was  an  only  child,  and  as  a result  of 
sorrow  the  father  drank  himself  to  death  in  a few  days’ 
time,  while  the  mother  went  insane  and  also  died.  Three 
months  later,  the  boy,  ragged  and  footsore,  struggled 
up  the  steps  and  knocked  at  the  door  that  had  been  his 
parents’.  He  had  been  kidnapped  and  sold  to  a tobacco 
planter.  But  he  had  attained  the  well-nigh  impossible. 
With  a boy  of  nine,  he  had  eluded  the  plantation  guards, 
and,  by  reason  of  their  small  size,  the  two  had  escaped 
observation,  and,  by  stealing  a canoe,  had  reached  El 
Hule.  By  slow  stages,  begging  their  food  on  the  way, 
the  baby  tramps  had  reached  home. 

The  typical  life  story  of  a labor  agent  I heard  in 
Cordoba  on  my  way  to  the  valley.  It  was  told  me  first 
by  a negro  contractor  from  New  Orleans,  who  had 
been  in  the  country  for  about  fifteen  years.  It  was  told 
me  again  by  the  landlord  of  my  hotel.  Later,  it  was 
confirmed  by  several  tobacco  planters  in  the  valley.  The 
story  is  this: 

Four  years  ago  Daniel  T , an  unsuccessful  Span- 

ish adventurer,  arrived,  penniless,  in  Cordoba.  In  a few 


76 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


days  he  was  having  trouble  with  his  landlord  over  the 
non-payment  of  rent.  But  he  had  learned  a thing  or 
two  in  those  few  days,  and  he  set  about  to  take  advan- 
tage of  his  knowledge.  He  went  for  a stroll  about  the 
streets  and,  coming  upon  a farm  laborer,  thus  addressed 
him : 

“Would  you  care  to  earn  dos  reales  (25  centavos ) 
very  easily,  my  man?” 

Of  course  the  man  cared,  and  in  a few  minutes  he 
was  on  his  way  to  the  Spaniard’s  room  carrying  a “mes- 
sage.” The  wily  fellow  took  another  route,  arrived  first, 
met  the  messenger  at  the  door,  took  him  by  the  neck, 
and,  dragging  him  inside,  gagged  and  bound  him  and 
left  him  on  the  floor  while  he  went  out  to  hunt  up  a 
labor  agent.  That  night  the  adventurer  sold  his  prisoner 
for  $20,  paid  his  rent,  and  immediately  began  laying 
plans  for  repeating  the  operation  on  a larger  scale. 

The  incident  marked  the  entrance  of  this  man  into 
the  business  of  “labor  contracting.”  In  a few  months 
he  had  made  his  bargain  with  the  political  powers  of 
Mexico  City,  of  Veracruz,  of  Oaxaca,  of  Tuztepec  and 

other  places.  Today  he  is  El  Senor  Daniel  T . I 

saw  his  home,  a palatial  mansion  with  the  sign  of  three 
cocks  above  the  door.  He  uses  a private  seal  and  is 
said  to  be  worth  $100,000,  all  acquired  as  a “labor  agent.” 

The  prevailing  price  in  1908  for  men  was  $45  each, 
women  and  children  half  price.  In  1907,  before  the 
panic,  it  was  $60  per  man.  All  slaves  entering  the  valley 
must  wait  over  at  Tuztepec,  where  Rodolpho  Pardo,  the 
jefc  politico  of  the  district,  counts  them  and  exacts  a toll 
of  ten  per  cent  of  the  purchase  price,  which  he  puts  into 
his  own  pocket. 

The  open  partnership  of  the  government  in  the  slave 
traffic  must  necessarily  have  some  excuse.  The  excuse 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  77 

is  the  debt,  the  $5  advance  fee  usually  paid  by  the  labor 
agent  to  the  laborer.  It  is  unconstitutional,  but  it  serves. 
The  presidents  of  Valle  Nacional  told  me,  “There  is  not 
a police  official  in  all  southern  Mexico  who  will  not 
recognize  that  advance  fee  as  a debt  and  acknowledge 
your  right  to  take  the  body  of  the  laborer  where  you 
will.” 

When  the  victim  arrives  in  the  valley  of  tobacco  he 
learns  that  the  promises  of  the  labor  agent  were  made 
merely  to  entrap  him.  Moreover,  he  learns  also  that 
the  contract — if  he  has  been  lucky  enough  to  get  a peep 
at  that  instrument — was  made  exactly  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. As  the  promises  of  the  labor  agent  belie  the 
provisions  of  the  contract,  so  the  contract  belies  the 
actual  facts.  The  contract  usually  states  that  the  laborer 
agrees  to  sell  himself  for  a period  of  six  months,  but 
no  laborer  with  energy  left  in  his  body  is  by  any  chance 
set  free  in  six  months.  The  contract  usually  states  that  the 
employer  is  bound  to  furnish  medical  treatment  for  the 
laborers;  the  fact  is  that  there  is  not  a single  physician 
for  all  the  slaves  of  Valle  Nacional.  Finally,  the  con- 
tract usually  binds  the  employer  to  pay  the  men  fifty 
centavos  (25  cents  American)  per  day  as  wages,  and  the 
women  three  pesos  a month  ($1.50  American),  but  I 
was  never  able  to  find  one  who  ever  received  one  copper 
centavo  from  his  master — never  anything  beyond  the 
advance  fee  paid  by  the  labor  agent. 

The  bosses  themselves  boasted  to  me — several  of  them 
— that  they  never  paid  any  money  to  their  slaves.  Yet 
they  never  called  their  system  slavery.  They  claimed 
to  “keep  books”  on  their  slaves  and  juggle  the  accounts 
in  such  a way  as  to  keep  them  always  in  debt.  “Yes, 
the  wages  are  fifty  centavos  a day,”  they  would  say, 
“but  they  must  pay  us  back  what  we  give  to  bring  them 


78 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


here.  And  they  must  give  us  interest  on  it,  too.  And 
they  must  pay  for  the  clothing  that  we  give  them — and 
the  tobacco,  and  anything  else.” 

This  is  exactly  the  attitude  of  every  one  of  the  to- 
bacco planters  of  Valle  Nacional.  For  clothing,  and 
tobacco,  and  “anything  else,”  they  charge  ten  prices.  It 
is  no  exaggeration.  Senor  Rodriguez,  proprietor  of  the 
farm  “Santa  Fe,”  for  example,  showed  me  a pair  of 
unbleached  cotton  pajama-like  things  that  the  slaves 
use  for  pantaloons.  His  price,  he  said,  was  three  dollars 
a pair.  A few  days  later  I found  the  same  thing  in 
Veracruz  at  thirty  cents. 

Trousers  at  $3,  shirts  the  same  price — suits  of  clothes 
so  flimsy  that  they  wear  out  and  drop  off  in  three  weeks’ 
time.  Eight  suits  in  six  months  at  $6  is  $48.  Add  $45, 
the  price  of  the  slave;  add  $5,  the  advance  fee;  add  $2 
for  discounts,  and  there’s  the  $90  wages  of  the  six  months 
gone. 

Such  is  keeping  books  to  keep  the  slave  a slave.  On 
the  other  hand,  when  you  figure  up  the  cost  of  the  slave 
to  yourself,  it  is  quite  different.  “Purchase  price,  food, 
clothes,  wages — everything,”  Senor  Rodriguez  told  me, 
“costs  from  $60  to  $70  per  man  for  the  first  six  months 
of  service.” 

Add  your  purchase  price,  advance  fee  and  suits  at 
cost,  60  cents  each,  and  we  discover  that  between  $5  and 
$15  are  left  for  both  food  and  wages  for  each  six  months. 
It  all  goes  for  food — beans  and  tortillas. 

Yes,  there  is  another  constant  item  of  expense  that 
the  masters  must  pay — the  burial  fee  in  the  Valle 
Nacional  cemetery.  It  is  $1.50.  I say  this  is  a constant 
item  of  expense  because  practically  all  the  slaves  die 
and  are  supposed  to  be  buried.  The  only  exception  to 
the  rule  occurs  when,  in  order  to  save  the  $1.50,  the 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  79 

masters  bury  their  slaves  themselves  or  throw  them  to 
the  alligators  of  the  neighboring  swamps. 

Every  slave  is  guarded  night  and  day.  At  night  he 
is  locked  up  in  a dormitory  resembling  a jail.  In  addi- 
tion to  its  slaves,  each  and  every  plantation  has  its 
mandador,  or  superintendent,  its  cabos,  who  combine 
the  function  of  overseer  and  guard ; and  several  free 
laborers  to  run  the  errands  of  the  ranch  and  help  round 
up  the  runaways  in  case  of  a slave  stampede. 

The  jails  are  large  barn-like  buildings,  constructed 
strongly  of  young  trees  set  upright  and  wired  together 
with  many  strands  of  barbed  wire  fencing.  The  win- 
dows are  iron  barred,  the  floors  dirt.  There  is  no  fur- 
niture except  sometimes  long,  rude  benches  which  serve 
as  beds.  The  mattresses  are  thin  grass  mats.  In  such 
a hole  sleep  all  the  slaves,  men,  women  and  children, 
the  number  ranging,  according  to  the  size  of  the  planta- 
tion, from  seventy  to  four  hundred. 

They  are  packed  in  like  sardines  in  a box,  crowded 
together  like  cattle  in  a freight  car.  You  can  figure  it 
out  for  yourself.  On  the  ranch  “Santa  Fe”  the  dormi- 
tory measures  75  by  18  feet,  and  it  accommodates  150. 
On  the  ranch  “La  Sepultura,”  the  dormitory  is  40  by 
15  feet,  and  it  accommodates  70.  On  the  ranch  “San 
Cristobal,”  the  dormitory  is  100  by  50  feet,  and  it 
accommodates  350.  On  the  ranch  “San  Juan  del  Rio,”  the 
dormitory  is  80  by  90,  and  it  accommodates  400.  From 
nine  to  eighteen  square  feet  for  each  person  to  lie  down 
in — so  runs  the  space.  And  on  not  a single  ranch  did 
I find  a separate  dormitory  for  the  women  or  the  chil- 
dren. Women  of  modesty  and  virtue  are  sent  to  Valle 
Nacional  every  week  and  are  shoved  into  a sleeping 
room  with  scores  and  even  hundreds  of  others,  most 


80 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


of  them  men,  the  door  is  locked  on  them  and  they  are 
left  to  the  mercy  of  the  men. 

Often  honest,  hard-working  Mexicans  are  taken  into 
Valle  Nacional  with  their  wives  and  children.  If  the 
wife  is  attractive  in  appearance  she  goes  to  the  planter 
or  to  one  or  more  of  the  bosses.  The  children  see  their 
mother  being  taken  away  and  they  know  what  is  to 
become  of  her.  The  husband  knows  it,  but  if  he  makes 
objection  he  is  answered  with  a club.  Time  and  time 
again  I have  been  told  that  this  was  so,  by  masters,  by 
slaves,  by  officials.  And  the  women  who  are  thrust  into 
the  sardine  box  must  take  care  of  themselves. 

One-fifth  of  the  slave.,  of  Valle  Nacional  are  women; 
one-third  are  boys  under  fifteen.  The  boys  work  in 
the  fields  with  the  men.  They  cost  less,  they  last  well, 
and  at  some  parts  of  the  work,  such  as  planting  the 
tobacco,  they  are  more  active  and  hence  more  useful. 
Boys  as  young  as  six  sometimes  are  seen  in  the  field 
planting  tobacco.  Women  are  worked  in  the  field,  too, 
especially  during  the  harvest  time,  but  their  chief  work 
is  as  household  drudges.  They  serve  the  master  and 
the  mistress,  if  there  is  a mistress,  and  they  grind  the 
corn  and  cook  the  food  of  the  male  slaves.  In  every 
slave  house  I visited  I found  from  three  to  a dozen 
women  grinding  corn.  It  is  all  done  by  hand  with  two 
pieces  of  stone  called  a metatc.  The  flat  stone  is  placed 
on  the  floor,  the  woman  kneels  beside  it,  bends  almost 
double  and  works  the  stone  roller  up  and  down.  The 
movement  is  something  like  that  of  a woman  washing 
clothes,  but  it  is  much  harder.  I asked  the  presidente 
of  Valle  Nacional  why  the  planters  did  not  purchase 
cheap  mills  for  grinding  the  corn,  or  why  they  did  not 
combine  and  buy  a mill  among  them,  instead  of  breaking 


THE  CONTRACT  SLAVES  OF  VALLE  NACIONAL  81 

several  hundred  backs  yearly  in  the  work.  ‘‘Women  are 
cheaper  than  machines,”  was  the  reply. 

In  Valle  Nacional  the  slaves  seemed  to  me  to  work 
all  the  time.  I saw  them  working  in  the  morning  twi- 
light. I saw  them  working  in  the  evening  twilight.  I 
saw  them  working  far  into  the  night.  “If  we  could  use 
the  water  power  of  the  Papaloapan  to  light  our  farms 
we  could  work  our  farms  all  night,”  Manuel  Lagunas 
told  me,  and  I believe  he  would  have  done  it.  The  rising 
hour  on  the  farms  is  generally  4 o’clock  in  the  morning. 
Sometimes  it  is  earlier.  On  all  but  three  or  four  of 
the  thirty  farms  the  slaves  work  every  day  in  the  year — 
until  they  fall.  At  San  Juan  del  Rio,  one  of  the  largest, 
they  have  a half  holiday  every  Sunday.  I happened  to 
be  at  San  Juan  del  Rio  on  a Sunday  afternoon.  That 
half  holiday!  What  a grim  joke!  The  slaves  spent  it 
in  jail,  locked  up  to  keep  them  from  running  away! 

And  they  fall  very  fast.  They  are  beaten,  and  that 
helps.  They  are  starved,  and  that  helps.  They  are 
given  no  hope,  and  that  helps.  They  die  in  anywhere 
from  one  month  to  a year,  the  time  of  greatest  mortality 
being  between  the  sixth  and  eighth  month.  Like  the 
cotton  planters  of  our  South  before  the  war,  the  tobacco 
planters  seem  to  have  their  business  figured  down  to  a 
fine  point.  It  was  a well-established  business  maxim  of 
our  cotton  planters  that  the  greatest  amount  of  profit 
could  be  wrung  from  the  body  of  a negro  slave  by 
working  him  to  death  in  seven  years  and  then  buying 
another  one.  The  Valle  Nacional  slave  holder  has  dis- 
covered that  it  is  cheaper  to  buy  a slave  for  $45  and 
work  and  starve  him  to  death  in  seven  months,  and  then 
spend  $45  for  a fresh  slave,  than  it  is  to  give  the  first 
slave  better  food,  work  him  less  sorely  and  stretch  out  his 
life  and  his  toiling  hours  over  a longer  period  of  time. 


CHAPTER  V 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 

I visited  Valle  Nacional  in  the  latter  part  of  1908, 
spending  a week  in  the  region  and  stopping  at  all  the 
larger  plantations.  I passed  three  nights  at  various  plan- 
tation houses  and  four  more  at  one  or  another  of  the 
towns.  As  in  Yucatan,  I visited  the  country  in  the  guise 
of  a probable  purchaser  of  plantations. 

As  in  Yucatan,  I succeeded  in  convincing  authorities 
and  planters  that  I had  several  million  dollars  behind  me 
just  aching  to  be  invested.  Consequently,  I put  them 
as  completely  off  their  guard  as  it  would  be  possible 
to  do.  As  in  Yucatan,  I was  able  to  secure  my  informa- 
tion, not  only  from  what  I saw  of  and  heard  from  the 
slaves,  but  from  the  mouths  of  the  masters  themselves. 
Indeed,  I was  more  fortunate  than  I was  in  Yucatan. 
I chummed  with  bosses  and  police  so  successfully  that 
they  never  once  became  suspicious,  and  for  months  some 
of  them  were  doubtless  looking  for  me  to  drop  in  any 
fine  day  with  a few  million  in  my  pocket,  prepared  to 
buy  them  out  at  double  the  value  of  their  property. 

The  nearer  we  approached  Valle  Nacional  the  greater 
horror  of  the  place  we  found  among  the  people. 
None  had  been  there,  but  all  had  heard  rumors,  some 
had  seen  survivors,  and  the  sight  of  those  walking  corpses 
had  confirmed  the  rumors.  As  we  got  off  the  train  at 
Cordoba,  we  saw  crossing  the  platform  a procession  of 
fourteen  men,  two  in  front  and  two  behind  with  rifles, 
ten  with  their  arms  bound  behind  them  with  ropes,  their 


82 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


83 


heads  down.  Some  were  ragged,  some  well  dressed,  and 
several  had  small  bundles  on  their  shoulders. 

“On  their  way  to  the  valley !”  I whispered.  My  com- 
panion nodded,  and  the  next  moment  the  procession 
disappeared  through  a narrow  gateway  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  the  entrance  to  a most  conveniently 
situated  “bull  pen”  for  the  accommodation  over  night 
of  the  exiles. 

After  supper  I mingled  with  the  crowds  in  the  lead- 
ing hotels  of  the  town,  and  was  aggressive  enough  in  my 
role  of  investor  to  secure  letters  of  introduction  from 
a wealthy  Spaniard  to  several  slave  holders  of  the  valley. 

“You’d  better  call  on  the  jefe  politico  at  Tuztepec  as 
soon  as  you  get  there,”  advised  the  Spaniard.  “He’s  a 
friend  of  mine.  Just  show  him  my  signature  and  he’ll 
pass  you  along,  all  right.” 

When  I arrived  at  Tuztepec  I took  the  advice  of  the 
Senor  and  to  my  good  fortune,  for  the  jcfe  politico, 
Rodolpho  Pardo,  not  only  passed  me  along,  but  gave 
me  a personal  letter  to  each  of  his  subordinates  along 
the  road,  the  prcsidcntes  of  Chiltepec,  Jacatepec  and 
Valle  Nacional,  instructing  them  to  neglect  their  official 
business,  if  necessary,  but  to  attend  to  my  wants.  Thus 
it  was  during  my  first  days  in  the  Valley  of  Death  I 
was  the  guest  of  the  prcsidente,  and  on  the  nights  which  I 
spent  in  the  town  a special  police  escort  was  appointed 
to  see  that  I came  to  no  harm. 

In  Cordoba,  a negro  building  contractor,  an  intelligent 
fellow,  who  had  sojourned  in  Mexico  for  fifteen  years, 
said  to  me: 

“The  days  of  slavery  ain’t  over  yet.  No,  sir,  they 
ain’t  over.  I’ve  been  here  a long  time  and  I’ve  got  a 
little  property.  I know  I’m  pretty  safe,  but  sometimes 
I get  scared  myself — yes,  sir,  I get  scared,  you  bet!” 


84 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Early  next  morning  as  I was  dressing  I glanced  out 
of  my  window  and  saw  a man  walking  down  the  middle 
of  the  street  with  one  end  of  a riata  around  his  neck 
and  a horseman  riding  behind  at  the  other  end  of  the 
riata. 

“Where’s  that  man  going?”  I inquired  of  the  servant. 
“Going  to  be  hanged?” 

“Oh,  no,  only  going  to  jail,”  answered  the  servant. 
“It’s  the  easiest  way  to  take  them,  you  know.  In  a day 
or  two,”  he  added,  “that  man  will  be  on  his  way  to 
Valle  Nacional.  Everybody  arrested  here  goes  to  Valle 
Nacional — everybody  except  the  rich.” 

“I  wonder  if  that  same  gang  we  saw  last  night  will 
be  going  down  on  the  train  today,”  my  companion,  De 
Lara,  said,  as  we  made  for  the  depot. 

He  did  not  wonder  long,  for  we  had  hardly  found 
seats  when  we  saw  the  ten  slaves  and  their  ruralc  guards 
filing  into  the  second-class  coach  adjoining.  Three  of 
the  prisoners  were  well  dressed  and  had  unusually  intel- 
ligent faces;  the  others  were  of  the  ordinary  type  of 
city  or  farm  laborers.  Two  of  the  former  were  bright 
boys  under  twenty,  one  of  whom  burst  into  tears  as  the 
train  pulled  slowly  out  of  Cordoba  toward  the  dreaded 
valley. 

Down  into  the  tropics  we  slid,  into  the  jungle,  into 
the  dampness  and  perfume  of  the  lowlands,  known  as 
the  hot  country.  We  flew  down  a mountain,  then  skirted 
the  rim  of  a gash-like  gorge,  looking  down  upon  coffee 
plantations,  upon  groves  of  bananas,  rubber  and  sugar 
cane,  then  into  a land  where  it  rains  every  day  except 
in  mid-winter.  It  was  not  hot — not  real  hot,  like  Yuma 
— but  the  passengers  perspired  with  the  sky. 

We  watched  the  exiles  curiously,  and  at  the  first 
opportunity  we  made  advances  to  the  chief  of  the  rurale 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


85 


squad.  At  Tierra  Blanca  we  stopped  for  dinner  and,  as 
the  meal  the  ruralcs  purchased  for  their  charges  con- 
sisted only  of  tortillas  and  chili,  we  bought  a few  extras 
for  them,  then  sat  and  watched  them  eat.  Gradually 
we  drew  the  exiles  into  conversation,  carefully  nursing 
the  good  will  of  their  guards  at  the  same  time,  and  pres- 
ently we  had  the  story  of  each. 

The  prisoners  were  all  from  Pachuca,  capital  of  the 
state  of  Plidalgo,  and,  unlike  the  vast  majority  of  Valle 
Nacional  slaves,  they  were  being  sent  over  the  road 
directly  by  the  jcfc  politico  of  that  district.  The  par- 
ticular system  of  this  particular  jcfe  was  explained  to 
us  two  days  later  by  Espiridion  Sanchez,  a corporal  of 
ruralcs,  as  follows : 

“The  jcfc  politico  of  Pachuca  has  a contract  with 
Candido  Fernandez,  owner  of  the  tobacco  plantation 
‘San  Cristobal  la  Vega,’  whereby  he  agrees  to  deliver  500 
able-bodied  laborers  a year  for  fifty  pesos  each.  The 
jcfc  gets  special  nominal  government  rates  on  the  rail- 
roads, his  guards  are  paid  for  by  the  government,  so 
the  four  days’  trip  from  Pachuca  costs  him  only  three 
pesos  and  a half  per  man.  This  leaves  him  forty-six 
and  one-half  pesos.  Out  of  it  he  must  pay  something 
to  his  governor,  Pedro  L.  Rodriguez,  and  something  to 
the  jcfe  politico  at  Tuztepec.  But  even  then  his  profits 
are  very  large. 

“How  does  he  get  his  men?  He  picks  them  up  on 
the  street  and  puts  them  in  jail.  Sometimes  he  charges 
them  with  some  crime,  real  or  imaginary,  but  in  either 
case  the  man  is  never  tried.  He  is  held  in  jail  until 
there  are  enough  others  to  make  up  a gang,  and  then 
all  are  sent  here.  Why,  men  who  may  be  safely  sent 
to  Valle  Nacional  are  getting  so  scarce  in  Pachuca  that 
the  jcfc  has  even  been  known  to  take  young  boys  out  of 


86 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


school  and  send  them  here  just  for  the  sake  of  the  fifty 
pesos!” 

Of  our  ten  friends  from  Pachuca,  all  had  been  arrested 
and  put  in  jail,  but  not  one  had  been  taken  before  a 
judge.  Two  had  been  charged  with  owing  money  that 
they  could  not  pay,  one  had  been  arrested  when  drunk, 
another  had  been  drunk  and  had  discharged  a firearm 
into  the  air,  the  fifth  had  shouted  too  loudly  on  Inde- 
pendence Day,  September  16th,  another  had  attempted 
rape,  the  seventh  had  had  a mild-mannered  quarrel  with 
another  boy  over  the  sale  of  a five-cent  ring,  two  had 
been  musicians  in  the  army  and  had  left  one  company 
and  joined  another  without  permission,  and  the  tenth 
had  been  a clerk  of  rurales  and  had  been  sold  for  pay- 
ing a friendly  visit  to  the  previous  two  while  they  were 
in  jail  serving  out  their  sentence  for  desertion. 

When  we  smiled  our  incredulity  at  the  tale  of  the  tenth 
prisoner  and  asked  the  chief  rurale  pointblank  if  it  was 
true,  he  astonished  us  with  his  reply.  Nodding  his 
grizzled  head  he  said  in  a low  voice: 

“It  is  true.  Tomorrow  may  be  my  time.  It  is  always 
the  poor  that  suffer.” 

We  would  have  looked  upon  the  stories  of  these  men 
as  “fairy  tales,”  but  all  of  them  were  confirmed  by  one 
or  the  other  of  the  guards.  The  case  of  the  musicians 
interested  us  most.  The  older  carried  the  forehead  of 
a university  professor.  He  was  a cornet  player  and  his 
name  was  Amado  Godaniz.  The  younger  was  a boy  of 
but  eighteen,  the  boy  who  cried,  a basso  player  named 
Felipe  Gomez. 

“They  are  sending  us  to  our  death — to  our  death,” 
muttered  Godaniz.  “We  will  never  get  out  of  that  hole 
alive.”  And  all  along  the  route,  wherever  we  met  him, 
he  said  the  same  thing,  repeating  over  and  over  again: 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


87 


“They  are  sending  us  to  our  death — to  our  death !”  And 
always  at  the  words  the  soft-faced,  cringing  boy  of  eight- 
een at  his  side  would  cry  silently. 

At  El  Hule,  The  Gateway  to  the  Mexican  Hell,  we 
parted  from  our  unfortunate  friends  for  a time.  As  we 
left  the  railroad  depot  to  board  our  launch  in  the  river, 
we  saw  the  ten,  strung  out  in  single  file,  one  mounted 
rurale  in  front  and  one  behind,  disappear  in  the  jungle 
toward  Tuztepec.  Four  hours  later,  as  we  approached 
the  district  metropolis  in  the  thickening  twilight,  we  saw 
them  again.  They  had  beaten  the  launch  in  the  journey 
up  the  river,  had  crossed  in  a canoe,  and  now  stood  rest- 
ing for  a moment  on  a sandy  bank,  silhouetted  against 
the  sky. 

Rodolpho  Pardo,  the  jefe  politico,  whom  we  visited 
after  supper,  proved  to  be  a slender,  polished  man  of 
forty,  smooth-shaven,  with  eyes  which  searched  our 
bodies  like  steel  probes  at  first.  But  the  thought  of  fresh 
millions  to  be  invested  where  he  might  levy  his  toll  upon 
them  sweetened  him  as  we  became  acquainted,  and  when 
we  shook  his  cold,  moist  hand  good-bye,  we  had  won  all 
that  we  had  asked  for.  Don  Rodolpho  even  called  in  the 
chief  of  police  and  instructed  him  to  find  us  good  horses 
for  our  journey. 

Early  the  following  morning  found  us  on  the  jungle 
trail.  During  the  forenoon  we  encountered  several  other 
travelers,  and  we  lost  no  opportunity  to  question  them. 

“Run  away?  Yes;  they  try  to — sometimes,”  said  one 
native,  a Mexican  cattleman.  “But  too  many  are  against 
them.  The  only  escape  is  down  river.  They  must  cross 
many  times  and  they  must  pass  Jacatepec,  Chiltepec, 
Tuzetpec  and  El  Hule.  And  they  must  hide  from 
every  one  on  the  road,  for  a reward  of  ten  pesos  is  paid 
for  every  runaway  captured.  We  don’t  love  the  system, 


88 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


but  ten  pesos  is  a lot  of  money,  and  no  one  would  let 
it  go  by.  Besides,  if  one  doesn’t  get  it  another  will,  and 
even  though  the  runaway  should  get  out  of  the  valley, 
when  he  reaches  Cordoba  he  finds  the  cnganchador 
Tresgallo,  waiting  there  to  send  him  back.” 

“One  time,”  another  native  told  us,  “I  saw  a man 
leaning  against  a tree  beside  the  trail.  As  I rode  up 
I spoke  to  him,  but  he  did  not  move.  His  arm  was 
doubled  against  the  tree  trunk  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  be 
studying  the  ground.  I touched  his  shoulder  and  found 
that  he  was  stiff — dead.  He  had  been  turned  out  to  die 
and  had  walked  so  far.  How  do  I know  he  was  not  a 
runaway?  Ah,  Scnor,  I knew.  You  would  have  known, 
too,  had  you  seen  his  swollen  feet  and  the  bones  of  his 
face — almost  bare.  No  man  who  looks  like  that  could 
run  away!” 

Just  at  nightfall  we  rode  into  Jacatepec,  and  there 
we  found  the  slave  gang  ahead  of  us.  They  had  started 
first  and  had  kept  ahead,  walking  the  twenty-four  miles 
of  muddy  trail,  though  some  of  them  were  soft  from 
jail  confinement.  They  were  sprawled  out  on  a patch 
of  green  beside  the  detention  house. 

The  white  linen  collar  of  Amado  Godaniz  was  gone 
now.  The  pair  of  fine  shoes,  nearly  new,  which  he  wore 
on  the  train,  were  on  the  ground  beside  him,  heavy  with 
mud  and  water.  His  bare  feet  were  small,  as  white  as 
a woman’s  and  as  tender,  and  both  showed  bruises  and 
scratches.  Since  that  evening  at  Jacatepec  I have  often 
thought  of  Amado  Godaniz  and  have  wondered — with  a 
shiver — how  those  tender  white  feet  fared  among  the 
tropical  flies  of  Valle  Nacional.  “They  are  sending  us 
to  our  death — to  our  death !”  The  news  that  Amado 
Godaniz  were  alive  today  would  surprise  me.  That  night 
he  seemed  to  realize  that  he  would  never  need  those  fine 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


89 


shoes  again,  and  before  I went  to  bed  I heard  him  trying 
to  sell  them  to  a passer-by  for  twenty-five  cents. 

Wherever  we  stopped  we  induced  people,  by  careless 
questions,  to  talk  about  the  valley.  I wanted  to  make  no 
mistake.  I wanted  to  hear  the  opinion  of  everybody.  I 
did  not  know  what  might  be  denied  us  farther  on.  And 
always  the  story  was  the  same — slavery  and  men  and 
women  beaten  to  death. 

We  arose  at  five  the  next  morning  and  missed  our 
breakfast  in  order  to  follow  the  slave  gang  over  the 
road  to  Valle  Nacional.  At  first  the  chief  of  the  two 
ruralcs,  a clean,  handsome  young  Mexican,  looked 
askance  at  our  presence,  but  before  we  were  half  way 
there  he  was  talking  pleasantly.  He  was  a Tuztepec  rurale 
and  was  making  his  living  out  of  the  system,  yet  he 
was  against  it. 

“It’s  the  Spanish  who  beat  our  people  to  death,”  he 
said  bitterly.  “All  the  tobacco  planters  are  Spanish,  all 
but  one  or  two.” 

The  rurale  chief  gave  us  the  names  of  two  Spaniards, 
partners,  Juan  Pereda  and  Juan  Robles,  who  had  become 
rich  on  Valle  Nacional  tobacco  and  had  sold  out  and 
gone  back  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  days  in  Spain.  After 
they  were  gone,  said  he,  the  new  owner,  in  looking  over 
the  place,  ran  upon  a swamp  in  which  he  found  hundreds 
of  human  skeletons.  The  toilers  whom  Pereda  and 
Robles  had  starved  and  beaten  to  death  they  had  been 
too  miserly  to  bury. 

Nobody  ever  thought  of  having  a planter  arrested  for 
murdering  his  slaves,  the  rurale  told  us.  To  this  rule  he 
mentioned  two  exceptions ; one,  the  case  of  a foreman 
who  had  shot  three  slaves ; the  other,  a case  in  which  an 
American  figured  and  in  which  the  American  ambassador 
took  action.  In  the  first  case  the  planter  had  disapproved 


90 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  killing  because  he  needed  the  slaves,  so  he  himself 
had  secured  the  arrest  of  the  foreman.  As  to  the  other 
case: 

“In  past  years  they  used  to  pick  up  a derelict  Ameri- 
can once  in  awhile  and  ship  him  down  here,”  said  my 
informant,  “but  the  trouble  this  particular  one  kicked  up 
has  resulted  in  Americans  being  barred  altogether.  This 
American  was  sent  to  ‘San  Cristobal,’  the  farm  of  Can- 
dido  Fernandez.  At  this  plantation  it  was  the  custom  to 
kill  a steer  every  two  weeks  to  provide  meat  for  the 
family  and  the  foremen;  the  only  meat  the  slaves  ever 
got  was  the  head  and  entrails.  One  Sunday,  while  help- 
ing butcher  a steer,  the  hunger  of  the  American  slave 
got  the  better  of  him,  and  he  seized  some  of  the  entrails 
and  ate  them  raw.  The  next  day  he  died  and  a few 
weeks  later  an  escaped  slave  called  on  the  American 
ambassador  in  Mexico  City,  gave  him  the  name  and  home 
address  of  the  American,  and  told  him  the  man  had  been 
beaten  to  death.  The  ambassador  secured  the  arrest  of 
the  planter  Fernandez  and  it  cost  him  a lot  of  money  to 
get  out  of  jail.” 

Our  trip  was  a very  beautiful  one,  if  very  rough.  At 
one  point  we  climbed  along  the  precipitous  side  of  a 
magnificent  mountain,  allowing  our  horses  to  pick  their 
way  over  the  rocks  behind  us.  At  another  we  waited 
while  the  slaves  took  off  their  clothing,  piled  them  in 
bundles  on  their  heads  and  waded  across  a creek;  then 
we  followed  on  our  horses.  At  many  points  I yearned 
mightily  for  a camera,  yet  I knew  if  I had  it  that  it 
would  get  me  into  trouble. 

Picture  merely  that  procession  as  it  wound  in  single 
file  around  the  side  of  a hill,  the  tropical  green  above 
broken  now  and  then  by  a ridge  of  gigantic  grey  rocks, 
below  a level  meadow  and  a little  farther  on  the  curving, 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


91 


feminine  lines  of  that  lovely  river,  the  Papaloapan.  Pic- 
ture those  ten  slaves,  six  with  the  regulation  high  straw 
hat  of  the  plebeian  Mexican,  four  with  felts,  all  bare- 
footed now  except  the  boy  musician,  who  is  sure  to  throw 
away  his  shoes  before  the  end  of  the  journey,  half  of 
them  bare-handed,  imagining  that  the  masters  will  fur- 
nish them  blankets  or  extra  clothing,  the  other  half  with 
small  bundles  of  bright-colored  blankets  on  their  backs; 
finally,  the  mounted  and  uniformed  ruralcs,  one  in  front 
and  one  behind;  and  the  American  travelers  at  the 
extreme  rear. 

Soon  we  began  to  see  gangs  of  men,  from  twenty  to 
one  hundred,  at  work  in  the  fields  preparing  the  ground 
for  the  tobacco  planting.  The  men  were  the  color  of  the 
ground,  and  it  struck  me  as  strange  that  they  moved 
incessantly  while  the  ground  was  still.  Here  and  there 
among  the  moving  shapes  stood  others — these  seemed 
different;  they  really  looked  like  men — with  long,  lithe 
canes  in  their  hands  and  sometimes  swords  and  pistols 
in  their  belts.  We  knew  then  that  we  had  reached  Valle 
Nacional. 

The  first  farm  at  which  we  stopped  was  “San  Juan  del 
Rio.”  Crouching  beside  the  porch  of  the  main  building 
was  a sick  slave.  One  foot  was  swollen  to  twice  its  nat- 
ural size  and  a dirty  bandage  was  wrapped  clumsily  about 
it.  “What’s  the  matter  with  your  foot?”  I asked. 
“Blood  poisoning  from  insect  bites,”  replied  the  slave. 
“He’ll  have  maggots  in  another  day  or  two,”  a boss  told 
us  with  a grin. 

As  wTe  rode  away  we  caught  our  first  glimpse  of  a 
Valle  Nacional  slave-house,  a mere  jail  with  barred  win- 
dows, a group  of  women  bending  over  metates,  and  a 
guard  at  the  door  with  a key. 

I have  said  that  our  rurale  corporal  was  opposed  to  the 


92 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


system,  yet  how  perfectly  he  was  a part  of  it  he  soon 
showed.  Rounding  a bluff  suddenly  we  caught  sight  of 
a man  crouching  half  hidden  behind  a tree.  Our  rurale 
called  him  and  he  came,  trembling,  and  trying  to  hide  the 
green  oranges  that  he  had  been  eating.  The  ensuing  con- 
versation went  something  like  this : 

Rurale — Where  are  you  going? 

Man — To  Oaxaca. 

Rurale — Where  are  you  from? 

Man — From  the  port  of  Manzanillo. 

Rurale — You’ve  come  a hundred  miles  out  of  your 
way.  Nobody  ever  comes  this  way  who  doesn’t  have 
business  here.  What  farm  did  you  run  away  from,  any- 
how ? 

Man — I didn’t  run  away. 

Rurale — Well,  you  fall  in  here. 

So  we  took  the  man  along.  Later  it  was  ascertained 
that  he  had  run  away  from  “San  Juan  del  Rio.”  The 
rurale  got  the  ten  pesos  reward. 

At  the  plantation  “San  Cristobal”  we  left  the  slave 
gang  behind,  first  having  the  temerity  to  shake  the  hands 
of  the  two  musicians,  whom  we  never  saw  again.  Alone 
on  the  road  we  found  that  the  attitude  of  those  we  met 
was  widely  different  from  what  it  had  been  when  we 
were  traveling  in  the  company  of  the  ruralcs,  the  agents 
of  the  state.  The  Spanish  horsemen  whom  we  encoun- 
tered did  not  deign  to  speak  to  us,  they  stared  at  us 
suspiciously  through  half  closed  eyes  and  one  or  two 
even  spoke  offensively  of  us  in  our  hearing.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  letter  to  the  presidente  in  my  pocket  it  would 
doubtless  have  been  a difficult  matter  to  secure  admission 
to  the  tobacco  plantations  of  Valle  Nacional. 

Everywhere  we  saw  the  same  thing — gangs  of  emaci- 
ated men  and  boys  at  work  clearing  the  ground  with 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


93 


machetes  or  ploughing  the  broad  fields  with  oxen.  And 
everywhere  we  saw  guards,  armed  with  long,  lithe  canes, 
with  swords  and  pistols.  Just  before  we  crossed  the 
river  for  the  last  time  to  ride  into  the  town  of  Valle 
Nacional  we  spoke  to  an  old  man  with  a stump  of  a 
wrist  who  was  working  alone  near  the  fence. 

“How  did  you  lose  your  hand?”  I asked. 

“A  cabo  (foreman)  cut  it  off  with  a sword,”  was  the 
reply. 

Manuel  Lagunas,  presidente  of  Valle  Nacional,  proved 
to  be  a very  amiable  fellow,  and  I almost  liked  him — 
until  I saw  his  slaves.  His  secretary,  Miguel  Vidal,  was 
even  more  amiable,  and  we  four  sat  for  two  hours  over 
our  late  dinner,  thoroughly  enjoying  ourselves — and  talk- 
ing about  the  country.  During  the  entire  meal  a little 
half-negro  boy  of  perhaps  eight  years  stood  silent  behind 
the  door,  emerging  only  when  his  master,  needing  to  be 
waited  upon,  called  “Negro!” 

“I  bought  him  cheap,”  said  Vidal.  “He  cost  me  only 
twenty-five  pesos.” 

Because  of  its  great  beauty  Valle  Nacional  was  orig- 
inally called  “Royal  Valley”  by  the  Spaniards,  but  after 
the  Independence  of  Mexico  it  was  rechristened  Valle 
Nacional.  Thirty-five  years  ago  the  land  belonged  to  the 
Chinanteco  Indians,  a peaceable  tribe  among  whom  it 
was  divided  by  President  Juarez.  When  Diaz  came  into 
power  he  failed  to  make  provision  for  protecting  the 
Chinantecos  against  scheming  Spaniards,  so  in  a few 
years  the  Indians  had  drunk  a few  bottles  of  mescal  and 
the  Spaniards  had  gobbled  up  every  foot  of  their  land. 
The  Valle  Nacional  Indians  now  secure  their  food  from 
rented  patches  high  up  on  the  mountain  sides  which  are 
unfit  for  tobacco  cultivation. 

Though  the  planters  raise  corn  and  beans,  and  some- 


94 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


times  bananas  or  other  tropical  fruits,  tobacco  is  the  only 
considerable  product  of  the  valley.  The  plantations  are 
usually  large,  there  being  only  about  thirty  in  the  entire 
district.  Of  this  number  twelve  are  owned  by  Balsa  Her- 
manos  (Brothers),  who  operate  a large  cigar  factory  in 
Veracruz  and  another  in  the  city  of  Oaxaca. 

After  dinner  we  went  for  a stroll  about  town  and  for 
a bodyguard  the  prcsidente  assigned  us  a policeman,  Juan 
Hernandez.  We  proceeded  to  question  the  policeman. 

“All  the  slaves  are  kept  until  they  die — all,”  said 
Hernandez.  “And  when  they  are  dead  the  bosses  do  not 
always  take  the  trouble  to  bury  them.  They  throw  them 
in  the  swamps  where  the  alligators  eat  them.  On  the 
plantation  ‘Hondura  de  Nanche’  so  many  are  given  to  the 
alligators  that  an  expression  has  arisen  among  the  slaves : 
‘Throw  me  to  The  Hungry !’  There  is  a terrible  fear 
among  those  slaves  that  they  will  be  thrown  to  ‘The 
Hungry’  before  they  are  dead  and  while  they  are  yet  con- 
scious, as  this  has  been  done !” 

Slaves  who  are  worn  out  and  good  for  nothing  more, 
declared  the  policeman,  and  yet  who  are  strong  enough 
to  cry  out  against  being  thrown  to  “The  Hungry,”  are 
turned  out  on  the  road  without  a cent,  and  in  their  rags 
many  of  them  crawl  to  the  town  to  die.  The  Indians  give 
them  some  food  and  on  the  edge  of  the  town  there  is  an 
old  house  in  which  the  miserable  creatures  are  permitted 
to  pass  their  last  hours.  This  place  is  known  as  “The 
House  of  Pity.”  We  visited  it  with  the  policeman  and 
found  an  old  woman  lying  on  her  face  on  the  bare  floor. 
She  did  not  move  when  we  came  in,  nor  when  we  spoke 
to  each  other  and  finally  to  her,  and  for  some  time  we 
were  not  sure  that  she  was  alive.  At  last  she  groaned 
feebly.  It  can  be  imagined  how  we  felt,  but  we  could  do 
nothing,  so  we  tip-toed  to  the  door  and  hurried  away. 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


95 


“You  will  find  this  a healthy  country,”  the  municipal 
secretary  told  us  a little  later  in  the  evening.  “Don’t 
you  notice  how  fat  we  all  are  ? The  laborers  of  the  plan- 
tations ? Ah,  yes,  they  die — die  of  malaria  and  consump- 
tion— but  it  is  only  because  they  are  under-fed.  Tor- 
tillas and  beans — sour  beans  at  that,  usually,  is  all  they 
get,  and  besides  they  are  beaten  too  much.  Yes,  they  die, 
but  nobody  else  here  ever  has  any  sickness.” 

Notwithstanding  the  accounts  of  Juan  Hernandez,  the 
policeman,  the  secretary  assured  us  that  most  of  the  dead 
slaves  were  buried.  The  burying  is  done  in  the  town  and 
it  costs  the  bosses  one  and  one-half  pesos  for  each  burial. 
By  charity  the  town  puts  a little  bamboo  cross  over  each 
grave.  We  strolled  out  in  the  moonlight  and  took  a look 
at  the  graveyard.  And  we  gasped  at  the  acres  and  acres 
of  crosses!  Yes,  the  planters  bury  their  dead.  One 
would  guess  by  those  crosses  that  Valle  Nacional  were 
not  a village  of  one  thousand  souls,  but  a city  of  one 
hundred  thousand! 

On  our  way  to  our  beds  in  the  house  of  the  Presidents 
we  hesitated  at  the  sound  of  a weak  voice  hailing  us.  A 
fit  of  heart-breaking  coughing  followed  and  then  we  saw 
a human  skeleton  squatting  beside  the  path.  He  wanted 
a penny.  We  gave  him  several,  then  questioned  him  and 
learned  that  he  was  one  who  had  come  to  die  in  “The 
House  of  Pity.”  It  was  cruel  to  make  him  talk,  but  we 
did  it,  and  in  his  ghastly  whispering  voice  he  managed  to 
piece  out  his  story  between  paroxysms  of  coughing. 

His  name  was  Angelo  Echavarria,  he  was  twenty 
years  old  and  a native  of  Tampico.  Six  months  previ- 
ously he  had  been  offered  wages  on  a farm  at  two  pesos 
a day,  and  had  accepted,  but  only  to  be  sold  as  a slave 
to  Andres  M.  Rodriguez,  proprietor  of  the  plantation 
“Santa  Fe.”  At  the  end  of  three  months  he  began  to 


96 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


break  down  under  the  inhuman  treatment  he  received 
and  at  four  months  a foreman  named  Augustin  broke  a 
sword  over  his  back.  When  he  regained  consciousness 
after  the  beating  he  had  coughed  up  a part  of  a lung. 
After  that  he  was  beaten  more  frequently  because  he 
was  unable  to  work  as  well,  and  several  times  he  fell  in 
a faint  in  the  field.  At  last  he  was  set  free,  but  when 
he  asked  for  the  wages  that  he  thought  were  his,  he  was 
told  that  he  was  $1.50  in  debt  to  the  ranch!  He  came 
to  the  town  and  complained  to  the  Prcsidcnte,  but  was 
given  no  satisfaction.  Now  too  weak  to  start  to  walk 
home,  he  was  coughing  his  life  away  and  begging  for 
subsistence  at  the  same  time.  In  all  my  life  I have  never 
seen  another  living  creature  so  emaciated  as  Angelo 
Echavarria,  yet  only  three  days  previously  he  had  been 
working  all  day  in  the  hot  sun ! 

We  visited  the  plantation  “Santa  Fe”  the  following 
day,  as  well  as  a half  a dozen  others.  We  found  the 
system  of  housing,  feeding,  working  and  guarding  the 
slaves  alike  on  all. 

The  main  dormitory  at  “Santa  Fe”  consisted  of  one 
windowless,  dirt-floor  room,  built  of  upright  poles  set  in 
the  ground  an  inch  apart  and  held  firmly  together  by 
strands  of  barbed  wire  fencing.  It  was  as  impregnable 
as  an  American  jail.  The  beds  consisted  of  a single  grass 
mat  each  laid  crosswise  on  a wooden  bench.  There  were 
four  benches,  two  on  each  side,  one  above  another,  run- 
ning lengthwise  of  the  room.  The  beds  were  laid  so 
close  together  that  they  touched.  The  dimensions  of  the 
room  were  75  by  18  feet  and  in  these  cramped  quarters 
150  men,  women  and  children  slept  every  night.  The 
Valle  Nacional  tobacco  planters  have  not  the  decency  of 
slave-holders  of  fifty  years  ago,  for  on  not  one  of  the 
plantations  did  I find  a separate  dormitory  for  the  women. 


BOY  SLAVES  ON  A SUGAR  PLANTATION  IN  THE  HOT  LANDS 


«r?  v 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


97 


And  I was  repeatedly  told  that  the  women  who  enter 
that  foul  hole  all  become  common  to  the  men,  not  because 
they  wish  to  become  so,  but  because  the  overseers  do  not 
protect  them  from  the  unwelcome  advances  of  the  men ! 

On  the  “Santa  Fe”  ranch  the  mandador,  or  superin- 
tendent, sleeps  in  a room  at  one  end  of  the  slave  dormi- 
tory and  the  cabos,  or  overseers,  sleep  in  a room  at  the 
other  end.  The  single  door  is  padlocked,  but  a watch- 
man paces  all  night  up  and  down  the  passageway  between 
the  rows  of  shelves.  Every  half  hour  he  strikes  a clam- 
orous gong.  In  answer  to  a question  Senor  Rodriguez 
assured  me  that  the  gong  did  not  disturb  the  sleeping 
slaves,  but  even  if  it  had  that  the  rule  was  necessary  to 
prevent  the  watchman  from  going  to  sleep  and  permitting 
a jail-break. 

Observing  the  field  gangs  at  close  range,  I was  aston- 
ished to  see  so  many  children  among  the  laborers.  At 
least  half  were  under  twenty  and  at  least  one-fourth 
under  fourteen. 

“The  boys  are  just  as  good  in  the  planting  as  the  men,” 
remarked  the  Presidente,  who  escorted  us  about.  “They 
last  longer,  too,  and  they  cost  only  half  as  much.  Yes, 
all  the  planters  prefer  boys  to  men.” 

During  my  ride  through  fields  and  along  the  roads 
that  day  I often  wondered  why  some  of  those  blood- 
less, toiling  creatures  did  not  cry  out  to  us  and  say: 
“Help  us!  For  God’s  sake  help  us ! We  are  being  mur- 
dered !”  Then  I remembered  that  all  men  who  pass  this 
way  are  like  their  own  bosses,  and  in  answer  to  a cry 
they  could  expect  nothing  better  than  a mocking  laugh, 
and  perhaps  a blow  besides. 

Our  second  night  in  Valle  Nacional  we  spent  on  the 
Presidente’ s plantation.  As  we  approached  the  place  we 
lagged  behind  the  Presidente  to  observe  a gang  of  150 


98 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


men  and  boys  planting  tobacco  on  the  adjoining  farm, 
“El  Mirador.”  There  were  half  a dozen  overseers  among 
them  and  as  we  came  near  we  saw  them  jumping  here 
and  there  among  the  slaves,  yelling,  cursing  and  striking 
this  way  and  that  with  their  long,  lithe  canes.  Whack! 
Whack ! went  the  sticks  on  back,  shoulders,  legs  and  even 
heads.  The  slaves  weren’t  being  beaten.  They  were  only 
being  urged  a little,  possibly  for  our  benefit. 

We  stopped,  and  the  head  foreman,  a big  black  Span- 
iard, stepped  over  to  the  fence  and  greeted  us. 

“Do  they  ever  fight  back?”  he  repeated,  at  my  ques- 
tion. “Not  if  they’re  wise.  They  can  get  all  the  fight 
they  want  from  me.  The  men  that  fight  me  don’t  come 
to  work  next  day.  Yes,  they  need  the  stick.  Better  to 
kill  a lazy  man  than  to  feed  him.  Run  away?  Some- 
times the  new  ones  try  it,  but  we  soon  tame  it  out  of 
them.  And  when  we  get  ’em  tamed  we  keep  ’em  here. 
There  never  was  one  of  these  dogs  who  got  out  of  here 
and  didn’t  go  telling  lies  about  us.” 

Should  I live  a thousand  years  I would  never  forget 
the  faces  of  dull  despair  I saw  everywhere;  and  I would 
never  forget  the  first  night  I spent  on  a Valle  Nacional 
slave  farm,  the  farm  of  the  Prcsidcntc.  The  place  was 
well  named,  “La  Sepultura,”  though  its  name  was  given 
by  the  Indians  long  before  it  became  the  sepulchre  of 
Mexican  slaves. 

“La  Sepultura”  is  one  of  the  smallest  farms  in  the 
valley.  The  dormitory  is  only  40  by  15  feet  and  it  accom- 
modates 70  men  and  women  nightly.  Inside  there  are  no 
benches — nothing  but  the  bare  ground  and  a thin  grass 
mat  for  each  sleeper.  In  it  we  found  an  old  woman  lying 
sick  and  shivering  alone.  Later  that  night  we  saw  it 
crammed  full  of  the  miserables  shivering  with  the  cold, 
for  the  wind  was  blowing  a hurricane  and  the  rain  was 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


99 


coming  down  in  torrents.  In  a few  hours  the  tempera- 
ture must  have  dropped  forty  degrees. 

One-third  of  the  laborers  here  were  women,  one  of 
them  a girl  of  twelve.  That  night  the  buildings  rocked 
so  fearfully  that  the  horses  were  taken  out  of  the  barn. 
But,  though  a building  had  blown  down  a few  weeks 
previously,  the  slaves  were  not  taken  out  of  their  jail. 
Their  jail  was  built  just  off  the  dining-room  of  the 
dwelling  and  that  night  my  companion  and  I slept  in  the 
dining-room.  I heard  the  jail  door  open  and  shut  for  a 
late  worker  to  enter  and  then  I heard  the  voice  of  the 
twelve-year-old  girl  pleading  in  terror:  “Please  don’t 

lock  the  door  tonight — only  tonight ! Please  leave  it  so 
we  can  be  saved  if  the  house  falls!”  The  answer  that  I 
heard  was  only  a brutal  laugh. 

When  I went  to  bed  that  night  at  9:30  a gang  of 
slaves  was  still  working  about  the  barn.  When  I 
awoke  at  four  the  slaves  were  receiving  their  beans  and 
tortillas  in  the  slave  kitchen.  When  I went  to  bed  two  of 
the  Presidcnte’s  kitchen  drudges  were  hard  at  work. 
Through  the  chinks  in  the  poles  which  divided  the  two 
rooms  I watched  them,  for  I could  not  sleep.  At  eleven 
o’clock  by  my  watch  one  disappeared.  It  was  12 :05 
before  the  other  was  gone,  but  in  less  than  four  hours 
more  I saw  her  again,  working,  working,  working, 
working ! 

Yet  perhaps  she  fared  better  than  did  the  grinders  of 
corn  and  the  drawers  of  water,  for  when,  with  the  son 
of  the  Presidcnte,  I visited  the  slave  kitchen  at  five  and 
remarked  on  the  exhausted  faces  of  the  women  there, 
he  informed  me  that  their  rising  hour  was  two  o’clock 
and  that  they  never  had  time  to  rest  during  the  day ! 

Oh,  it  was  awful ! This  boy  of  sixteen,  manager  of  the 
farm  in  his  father’s  absence,  told  me  with  much  gusto  of 


100 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


how  fiercely  the  women  sometimes  fought  against  the 
assaults  of  the  men  and  how  he  had  at  times  enjoyed 
peering  through  a crack  and  watching  those  tragic 
encounters  of  the  night ! All  night  we  were  disturbed — 
mostly  by  the  hacking,  tearing  coughs  that  came  to  us 
through  the  chinks,  sometimes  by  heart-breaking  sobs. 

De  Lara  and  I did  not  speak  about  these  things  until 
the  morning,  when  I remarked  upon  his  haggard  face. 

“I  heard  the  sobs  and  the  coughs  and  the  groans,”  said 
De  Lara.  ‘‘I  heard  the  women  cry,  and  I cried,  too — 
three  times  I cried.  I do  not  know  how  I can  ever  laugh 
and  be  happy  again !” 

While  we  waited  for  breakfast  the  Presidcnte  told  us 
many  things  about  the  slavery  and  showed  us  a number 
of  knives  and  files  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
slaves  at  various  times.  Like  penitentiary  convicts,  the 
slaves  had  somehow  got  possession  of  the  tools  in  the 
hope  of  cutting  a way  out  of  their  prison  at  night  and 
escaping  the  sentries. 

The  Presidcnte  told  us  frankly  that  the  authorities  of 
Mexico  City,  of  Veracruz,  of  Oaxaca,  of  Pachuca  and  of 
Jalapa  regularly  engage  in  the  slave  traffic,  usually  in 
combination  with  one  or  more  “labor  agents.”  He  espe- 
cially named  the  mayor  of  a certain  well  known  seaport, 
who  was  mentioned  in  the  American  newspapers  as  an 
honored  guest  of  President  Roosevelt  in  1908  and  a 
prominent  visitor  to  the  Republican  convention  at  Chi- 
cago. This  mayor,  said  our  Presidcnte,  regularly 
employed  his  city  detective  force  as  a dragnet  for  slaves. 
He  arrested  all  sorts  of  people  on  all  sorts  of  pretexts 
merely  for -the  sake  of  the  forty-five  pesos  apiece  that 
they  would  bring  from  the  tobacco  planters. 

Our  conversation  that  morning  was  interrupted  by  a 
Spanish  foreman  who  rode  up  and  had  a talk  with  the 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


101 


Presidcnte.  They  spoke  in  low  tones,  but  we  caught 
most  of  wha't  they  said.  The  foreman  had  killed  a woman 
the  previous  day  and  had  come  to  make  his  peace  about 
it.  After  a consultation  of  ten  minutes  the  Presidente 
shook  the  hand  of  his  visitor  and  we  heard  him  tell  the 
murderer  to  go  home  and  attend  to  his  business  and 
think  no  more  about  the  matter. 

It  was  Sunday  and  we  spent  the  entire  day  in  the 
company  of  Antonio  Pla,  probably  the  most  remarkable 
human  monster  in  Valle  Nacional.  Pla  is  general  man- 
ager for  Balsa  Hermanos  in  Valle  Nacional  and  as  such 
he  oversees  the  business  of  twelve  large  plantations.  He 
resides  on  the  ranch  “Hondura  de  Nanche,”  the  one  of 
special  alligator  fame,  where  the  term  “Throw  me  to  The 
Hungry”  originated.  Pla  calls  his  slaves  “ Los  Tigres” 
(the  tigers)  and  he  took  the  greatest  of  pleasure  in 
showing  us  the  “dens  of  the  tigers,”  as  well  as  in  explain- 
ing his  entire  system  of  purchase,  punishment  and  burial. 

Pla  estimated  that  the  annual  movement  of  slaves  to 
Valle  Nacional  is  15,000  and  he  assured  me  that  if  the 
planters  killed  every  last  one  of  them  the  authorities 
would  not  interfere. 

“Why  should  they?”  he  asked.  “Don’t  we  support 
them  ?” 

Pla,  like  many  of  the  other  planters,  raised  tobacco  in 
Cuba  before  he  came  to  Valle  Nacional,  and  he  declared 
that  on  account  of  the  slave  system  in  the  latter  place  the 
same  quality  of  tobacco  was  raised  in  Valle  Nacional 
for  half  the  price  that  it  cost  to  raise  it  in  Cuba.  It  was 
not  practical,  said  he,  to  keep  the  slaves  more  than  seven 
or  eight  months,  as  they  became  “all  dried  out.”  He 
explained  the  various  methods  of  whipping,  the  informal 
slugging  in  the  field  with  a cane  of  bcjnco  wood,  and  the 
lining-up  of  the  gangs  in  the  morning  and  the  admin- 


102 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


istration  of  “a  few  stripes  to  the  lazy  ones  as  medicine 
for  the  day.” 

“But  after  awhile,”  declared  Pla,  “even  the  cane 
doesn’t  do  any  good.  There  conies  a time  when  they 
just  can’t  work  any  longer.” 

Pla  told  us  that  an  agent  of  the  government  had  three 
months  before  tried  to  sell  him  500  Yaquis  for  twenty 
thousand  pesos,  but  he  had  rejected  the  offer,  as,  though 
the  Yaquis  last  like  iron,  they  will  persist  in  taking  long 
chances  in  a break  for  liberty. 

“I  bought  a bunch  of  Yaquis  several  years  ago,”  he 
said,  “but  most  of  them  got  away  after  a few  months. 
No,  Yucatan  is  the  only  place  for  the  Yaquis.” 

We  found  two  Yaquis,  however,  on  the  farm,  “Los 
Mangos.”  They  said  they  had  been  there  for  two  years 
and  were  the  only  ones  left  out  of  an  original  lot  of 
two  hundred.  One  had  been  out  of  commission  for  a 
few  days,  one  of  his  feet  being  half  gone — eaten  off  by 
insects. 

“I  expect  I'll  have  to  kill  that  tiger,”  said  Pla,  in  the 
man’s  hearing.  “He’ll  never  be  worth  anything  to  me 
any  more.” 

The  second  Yaqui  we  found  in  the  field  working  with'  a 
gang.  I stepped  up  to  him  and  felt  of  his  arms.  They 
were  still  muscular.  He  was  really  a magnificent  speci- 
men and  reminded  me  of  the  story  of  Ben  Hur.  As  1 
inspected  him  he  stood  erect,  staring  straight  ahead  but 
trembling  slightly  in  every  limb.  The  mere  attitude  of 
that  Yaqui  was  to  me  the  most  conclusive  evidence  of  the 
beastliness  of  the  system  under  which  he  was  enslaved. 

At  “Los  Mangos”  a foreman  let  us  inspect  his  long, 
lithe  cane,  the  beating  cane,  the  cane  of  bejuco  wood.  It 
bent  like  a rawhide  buggy  whip,  but  it  would  not  break. 

“The  bejuco  tree  grows  on  the  mountain  side,”  ex- 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


103 


plained  the  foreman.  “See!  The  wood  is  like  leather. 
With  this  cane  I can  beat  twenty  men  to  death  and  yet 
it  will  be  good  for  twenty  more !” 

In  the  slave  kitchen  of  the  same  ranch  we  found  two 
girls  of  seventeen,  both  with  refined  and  really  beautiful 
faces,  grinding  corn.  Though  their  boss,  Pla,  stood 
menacingly  by,  each  dared  to  tell  her  story  briefly.  One, 
from  Leon,  State  of  Guanajuato,  declared  that  the  “labor 
agent”  had  promised  her  fifty  pesos  per  month  and  a 
good  home  as  cook  in  a small  family,  and  when  she 
discovered  that  all  was  not  right  it  was  too  late;  the 
rurales  compelled  her  to  come  along.  The  other  girl  was 
from  San  Luis  Potosi.  She  had  been  promised  a good 
home  and  forty  pesos  a month  for  taking  care  of  two 
small  children ! 

Wherever  we  went  we  found  the  houses  full  of  fine 
furniture  made  by  the  slaves. 

“Yes,”  explained  Antonio  Pla,  “some  of  the  best  arti- 
sans in  the  country  come  right  here — in  one  way  or 
another.  We  get  carpenters  and  cabinet-makers  and 
upholsterers  and  everything.  Why,  on  my  ranches  Fve 
had  teachers  and  actresses  and  artists  and  one  time  I 
even  had  an  ex-priest.  I had  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
actresses  in  the  country  one  time,  right  here  on  ‘Hon- 
dura  de  Nanche.’  She  was  noted,  too.  How  did  she 
get  here?  Simple  enough.  A son  of  a millionaire  in 
Mexico  City  wanted  to  marry  her  and,  to  get  her  out 
of  the  way,  the  millionaire  paid  the  authorities  a good 
price  to  kidnap  her  and  give  her  to  a labor  agent.  Yes, 
sir,  that  woman  was  a beauty!” 

“And  what  became  of  her?”  I asked. 

“Oh,”  was  the  evasive  reply.  “That  was  two  years 
ago!” 

Truly,  two  years  is  a long  time  in  Valle  Nacional, 


104 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


longer  than  a life-time,  usually.  The  story  of  the 
actress  reminded  me  of  a story  told  me  by  a newly- 
married  runaway  Mexican  couple  in  Los  Angeles  just 
before  I started  on  my  trip.  The  young  husband  was 
a member  of  the  middle  class  of  Mexico  City  and  his 
wife  was  the  daughter  of  a millionaire.  Because  the  boy 
was  considered  to  be  “below”  the  girl,  the  girl’s  father 
went  to  extremes  in  his  efforts  to  prevent  the  marriage. 

“George  went  through  many  dangers  for  me,”  is  the 
way  the  young  bride  told  the  story.  “One  time  my 
father  tried  to  shoot  him  and  another  time  my  father 
offered  the  authorities  five  thousand  pesos  to  kidnap  him 
and  send  him  to  Valle  Nacional.  But  I warned  George 
and  he  was  able  to  save  himself !” 

Pla  also  told  of  eleven  girls  who  had  come  to  him  in  a 
single  shipment  from  Oaxaca. 

“They  were  at  a public  dance,”  said  he.  “Some  men 
got  into  a fight  and  the  police  jailed  everybody  in  the 
hall.  Those  girls  didn’t  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
trouble,  but  the  jcfe  politico  needed  the  money  and  so 
he  sent  them  all  here.” 

“Well,”  I asked,  “what  sort  of  women  were  they?  Pub- 
lic women?” 

Pla  shot  me  a glance  full  of  meaning. 

“No,  Senor!”  he  said,  with  contempt  in  his  voice,  “do 
you  suppose  that  I need  to  have  that  kind  of  women  sent 
in  here  to  me?” 

The  close  attendance  of  owners  and  superintendents 
as  well  as  the  ubiquity  of  overseers,  prevented  us  from 
obtaining  many  long  interviews  with  the  slaves.  One  of 
the  most  notable  of  our  slave  talks  occurred  the  day 
following  our  visit  to  the  Balsa  Hermanos  farm.  Return- 
ing from  a long  day’s  visit  to  numerous  plantations,  we 
hailed  a ploughman  working  near  the  road  on  “Hondura 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


105 


de  Nanche.”  The  nearest  overseer  happened  to  be  half 
way  across  the  field  and  the  slave,  at  our  inquiry,  will- 
ingly pointed  out  the  slough  of  the  alligators  and  con- 
firmed the  story  of  dying  men  being  thrown  to  “The 
Hungry.” 

“I  have  been  here  for  six  years  and  I believe  I hold 
the  record  for  the  valley,”  he  told  us.  “Other  strong 
men  come  and  turn  to  skeletons  in  a single  season,  but  it 
seems  that  I cannot  die.  They  come  and  fall,  and  come 
and  fall,  yet  I stay  on  and  live.  But  you  ought  to  have 
seen  me  when  I came ! I was  a man  then — a man  ! I had 
shoulders  and  arms — I was  a giant  then.  But  now — ” 

Tears  gathered  in  the  fellow’s  eyes  and  rolled  down 
his  cheeks,  but  he  went  on : 

“I  was  a carpenter  and  a good  one — six  years  ago. 
I lived  with  my  brother  and  sister  in  Mexico  City.  My 
brother  was  a student — he  was  only  in  his  teens — my 
sister  tended  the  little  house  that  I paid  for  out  of  my 
wages.  We  were  not  poor — no.  We  were  happy.  Then 
work  in  my  trade  fell  slack  and  one  evening  I met  a 
friend  who  told  me  of  employment  to  be  had  in  the 
State  of  Veracruz  at  three  pesos  a day — a long  job.  I 
jumped  at  the  chance  and  we  came  together,  came  here — 
here!  I told  my  brother  and  sister  that  I would  send 
them  money  regularly,  and  when  I learned  that  I could 
send  them  nothing  and  wrote  to  let  them  know,  they 
would  not  let  me  send  the  letter ! For  months  I kept 
that  letter,  wratching,  waiting,  trying  to  get  an  oppor- 
tunity to  speak  to  the  carrier  as  he  rode  along  the  high- 
way. At  last  I saw  him,  but  when  I handed  him  the 
letter,  he  only  laughed  in  my  face  and  handed  it  back. 
Nobody  is  allowed  to  send  a letter  out  of  here. 

“Escape?”  went  on  the  ploughman.  “Yes,  I tried  it 
many  times.  Once,  only  eight  months  ago,  I got  as  far  as 


106 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Tuztepec.  I was  writing  a letter.  I wanted  to  get  word 
to  my  people,  but  they  caught  me  before  the  letter  was 
finished.  They  don’t  know  where  I am.  They  must 
think  I am  dead.  My  brother  must  have  had  to  leave 
school.  My — ” 

“Better  stop,”  I said.  “A  cabo  is  coming!” 

“No,  not  yet,”  he  answered.  “Quick ! I will  give  you 
their  address.  Tell  them  that  I never  read  the  contract. 
Tell  them  that  I never  saw  it  until  I came  here.  My 
brother’s  name  is  Juan  ” 

“Look  out !”  I cried,  but  too  late.  “Whack !”  The 
long  cane  struck  the  ploughman  across  the  back.  He 
winced,  started  to  open  his  mouth  again,  but  at  a second 
whack  he  changed  his  mind  and  turned  sullenly  to  his 
oxen. 

The  rains  of  our  last  two  days  in  Valle  Nacional  made 
the  trail  to  Tuztepec  impassable,  so  we  left  our  horses  and 
traveled  down  river  in  a balsa , a raft  of  logs  on  which  was 
erected  a tiny  shelter  house  roofed  with  banana  leaves. 
Two  Indians,  one  at  each  end,  poled  and  paddled  the 
strange  craft  down  the  rushing  stream,  and  from  them 
we  learned  that  the  Indians  themselves  have  had  their 
day  as  slaves  in  Valle  Nacional.  The  Spaniards  tried  to 
enslave  them,  but  they  fought  to  the  death.  They  em- 
ployed their  tribal  solidarity  and  fought  in  droves  like 
wolves  and  in  that  way  they  regained  and  kept  their 
freedom.  Such  a common  understanding  and  such  mass 
movements  cannot,  of  course,  be  developed  by  the  hetero- 
geneous elements  that  today  are  brought  together  on  the 
slave  plantations. 

At  Tuztepec  on  our  way  we  met  Senor  P , poli- 

tician, “labor  agent,”  and  relative  of  Felix  Diaz,  nephew 
of  President  Diaz  and  Chief  of  Police  of  Mexico  City. 


IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH 


107 


Senor  P , who  dressed  like  a prince,  made  himself 

agreeable  and  answered  our  questions  freely  because  he 
hoped  to  secure  the  contract  for  furnishing  slaves  for  my 
company. 

“You  can't  help  but  make  money  in  Valle  Nacional,” 
said  he.  “They  all  do.  Why,  after  every  harvest  there’s 
an  exodus  of  planters  to  Mexico  City,  where  some  of 
them  stay  for  months,  spending  their  money  in  the  most 
riotous  living!” 

Senor  P was  kind  enough  to  tell  us  what  became 

of  the  fifty  pesos  he  received  for  each  of  his  slaves.  Five 
pesos,  he  said  went  to  Rodolpho  Pardo,  jcfe  politico  of 
Tuztepec,  ten  to  Felix  Diaz  for  every  slave  taken  out  of 
Mexico  City,  and  ten  to  the  mayor  of  the  city  or  jefe 
politico  of  the  district  from  whence  came  the  other 
slaves. 

“The  fact  that  I am  a brother-in-law  of  Felix  Diaz,” 

said  Senor  P , “as  well  as  a personal  friend  of  the 

governors  of  the  states  of  Oaxaca  and  Veracruz,  and  of 
the  mayors  of  the  cities  of  the  same  name,  puts  me  in  a 
position  to  supply  your  wants  better  than  anyone  else.  I 
am  prepared  to  furnish  you  any  number  of  laborers  up  to 
forty  thousand  a year,  men,  women  and  children,  and 
my  price  is  fifty  pesos  each.  Children  workers  last  better 
than  adults  and  I advise  you  to  use  them  in  preference  to 
others.  I can  furnish  you  1,000  children  a month  under 
fourteen  years  of  age,  and  I am  prepared  to  secure  their 
legal  adoption  as  sons  and  daughters  of  the  company,  so 
that  they  can  be  legally  kept  until  they  reach  the  age  of 
twenty-two  !” 

“But  how,”  I gasped,  “is  my  company  going  to  adopt 
12,000  children  a year  as  sons  and  daughters?  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  the  government  would  permit  such  a 
thing?” 


108 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“Leave  that  to  me,”  replied  Senor  P , signifi- 

cantly. “I’m  doing  it  every  day.  You  don’t  pay  your 
fifty  pesos  until  you  get  the  children  and  the  adoption 
papers  too !” 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR 

A whole  book,  and  a large  one,  could  very  profitably  be 
written  upon  the  slavery  of  Mexico.  But  important  as 
the  subject  is,  it  is  not  important  enough  to  fill  a greater 
fraction  of  space  in  this  work  than  I have  allotted  to  it. 
Most  necessary  is  it  that  I dig  beneath  the  surface  and 
reveal  the  hideous  causes  which  have  made  and  are  per- 
petuating that  barbarous  institution. 

I trust  that  my  exposition  of  the  previous  chapters  has 
been  lucid  enough  to  leave  no  question  as  to  the  com- 
plete partnership  of  the  government  in  the  slavery. 

In  some  quarters  this  slavery  has  been  admitted,  but 
the  guilt  of  the  government  has  been  denied.  But  it  is 
absurd  to  suppose  that  the  government  could  be  kept  in 
ignorance  of  a situation  in  which  one-third  the  entire 
population  of  a great  state  are  held  as  chattels.  More- 
over, it  is  well  known  that  hundreds  of  state  and  national 
officials  are  constantly  engaged  in  rounding  up,  trans- 
porting, selling,  guarding  and  hunting  slaves.  As  I pre- 
viously pointed  out-,  every  gang  of  enganchados  leaving 
Mexico  City  or  any  other  city  for  Valle  Nacional  or  any 
other  slave  district  are  guarded  by  government  ruralcs,  or 
rural  guards,  in  uniform.  These  rurales  do  not  act  on 
their  own  initiative;  they  are  as  completely  under  orders 
as  are  the  soldiers  of  the  regular  army.  Without  the 
coercion  of  their  guns  and  their  authority  the  enganchados 
would  refuse  to  travel  a mile  of  the  journey.  A moment’s 
thought  is  sufficient  to  convince  any  unprejudiced  mind 


109 


110 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


that  without  the  partnership  of  the  government  the  whole 
system  of  slavery  would  be  an  impossibility. 

Slavery  similar  to  that  of  Yucatan  and  Valle  Nacional 
is  to  be  found  in  nearly  every  state  of  Mexico,  but 
especially  in  the  coast  states  south  of  the  great  plateau. 
The  labor  on  the  henequen  plantations  of  Campeche,  in 
the  lumber  and  fruit  industries  of  Chiapas  and  Tabasco, 
on  the  rubber,  coffee,  sugar-cane,  tobacco  and  fruit  plan- 
tations of  Veracruz,  Oaxaca  and  Morelos,  is  all  done  by 
slaves.  In  at  least  ten  of  the  thirty-two  states  and  terri- 
tories of  Mexico  the  proportion  of  labor  is  over- 
whelmingly of  slaves. 

While  the  minor  conditions  vary  somewhat  in  different 
places,  the  general  system  is  everywhere  the  same — ■ 
service  against  the  will  of  the  laborer,  no  pay,  semi- 
starvation, and  the  whip.  Into  this  arrangement  of  things 
are  impressed  not  only  the  natives  of  the  various  slave 
states,  but  others — 100,000  others  every  year,  to  speak  in 
round  numbers — who,  either  enticed  by  the  false  promises 
of  labor  agents,  kidnapped  by  labor  agents  or  shipped  by 
political  authorities  in  partnership  with  labor  agents, 
leave  their  homes  in  other  parts  of  the  country  to  jour- 
ney to  their  death  in  the  hot  lands. 

Debt  and  contract  slavery  is  the  prevailing  system  of 
production  all  over  the  south  of  Mexico.  Probably 
three-quarters  of  a million  souls  may  properly  be  classed 
as  human  chattels.  In  all  the  rest  of  Mexico  a system 
of  peonage,  differing  from  slavery  principally  in  degree, 
and  similar  in  many  respects  to  the  serfdom  of  Europe  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  prevails  in  the  rural  districts.  Under 
this  system  the  laborer  is  compelled  to  give  service  to 
the  farmer,  or  hacendado,  to  accept  what  he  wishes  to 
pay,  and  even  to  receive  such  beatings  as  he  cares  to 
deliver.  Debt,  real  or  imaginary,  is  the  nexus  that  binds 


C AUG  ADORES  WITH  BASKETS.  SEEN  EVERYWHERE  ON  THE  MEXICAN  PLATEAU 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR  111 

the  peon  to  his  master.  Debts  are  handed  from  father  to 
son  and  on  down  through  the  generations.  Though  the 
constitution  does  not  recognize  the  right  of  the  creditor  to 
take  and  hold  the  body  of  the  debtor,  the  rural  authorities 
everywhere  recognize  such  a right  and  the  result  is  that 
probably  5,000,000  people,  or  one-third  the  entire  popula- 
tion, are  today  living  in  a state  of  helpless  peonage. 

Farm  peons  are  often  credited  with  receiving  wages, 
which  nominally  range  from  twelve  and  one-half  cents  a 
day  to  twenty-five  cents  a day,  American  money — seldom 
higher.  Often  they  never  receive  a cent  of  this,  but  are 
paid  only  in  credit  checks  at  the  hacienda  store,  at  which 
they  are  compelled  to  trade  in  spite  of  the  exorbitant 
prices.  As  a result  their  food  consists  solely  of  corn 
and  beans,  they  live  in  hovels  often  made  of  no  more 
substantial  material  than  corn-stalks,  and  they  wear  their 
pitiful  clothing,  not  merely  until  the  garments  are  all  rags 
and  patches  and  ready  to  drop  off,  but  until  they  actually 
do  attain  the  vanishing  act. 

Probably  not  fewer  than  eighty  per  cent  of  all  the  farm 
and  plantation  laborers  in  Mexico  are  either  slaves  or 
are  bound  to  the  land  as  peons.  The  other  twenty  per  cent 
are  denominated  as  free  laborers  and  live  a precarious 
existence  trying  to  dodge  the  net  of  those  who  would  drag 
them  down.  I remember  particularly  a family  of  such 
whom  I met  in  the  State  of  Chihuahua.  They  were 
typical,  though  my  memory  of  them  is  most  vivid  because 
I saw  them  on  the  first  night  I ever  spent  in  Mexico.  It 
was  in  a second-class  car  on  the  Mexican  Central,  trav- 
eling south. 

They  were  six,  that  family,  and  of  three  generations. 
From  the  callow,  raven-haired  boy  to  the  white-chinned 
grandfather,  all  six  seemed  to  have  the  last  ray  of 
mirth  ground  out  of  their  systems.  We  were  a lively 


112 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


crowd  sitting  there  near  them — four  were  happy  Mexi- 
cans returning  home  for  a vacation  after  a season  at 
wage  labor  in  the  United  States.  We  sang  a little  and 
we  made  some  music  on  a violin  and  a harmonica.  But 
not  one  of  that  family  of  six  behind  us  ever  smiled  or 
showed  the  slightest  interest.  They  reminded  me  of  a 
herd  of  cattle  standing  in  a blizzard,  their  heads  between 
their  front  legs,  their  backs  to  the  storm. 

The  face  of  the  old  patriarch  told  a story  of  burdens 
and  of  a patient,  ox-like  bearing  of  them  such  as  no 
words  could  possibly  suggest.  He  had  a ragged,  griz- 
zled beard  and  moustache,  but  his  head  was  still  covered 
with  dark  brown  hair.  He  was  probably  seventy,  but 
was  evidently  still  an  active  worker.  His  clothing  con- 
sisted of  American  jumper  and  overalls  of  ordinary 
denim  washed  and  patched  and  washed  and  patched — 
a one-dollar  suit  patched  until  it  was  nothing  but 
patches ! 

Beside  the  patriarch  sat  the  old  lady,  his  wife,  with 
head  bowed  and  a facial  expression  so  like  that  of  her 
husband  that  it  might  have  been  a copy  by  a great  painter. 
Yes,  the  expression  differed  in  one  detail.  The  old 
woman’s  upper  lip  was  compressed  tight  against  her 
teeth,  giving  her  an  effect  of  perpetually  biting  her  lip 
to  keep  back  the  tears.  Perhaps  her  original  stock  of 
courage  had  not  been  equal  to  that  of  the  man  and  it 
had  been  necessary  to  fortify  it  by  an  everlasting  com- 
pression of  the  mouth. 

Then  there  was  a young  couple  half  the  age  of  the  two. 
The  man  sat  with  head  nodding  and  granulated  lids 
blinking  slowly,  now  and  then  turning  his  eyes  to  stare 
with  far  distant  interest  upon  the  merrymakers  around 
him.  His  wife,  a flat-breasted,  drooping  woman,  sat 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR  113 

always  in  one  position  with  her  head  bent  forward  and 
her  right  hand  fingering  her  face  about  the  bridge  of 
the  nose. 

Finally,  there  were  two  boys,  one  of  eighteen,  second 
son  of  the  old  man,  and  one  of  sixteen,  son  of  the 
second  couple.  In  all  that  night’s  journey  the  only  smile 
I saw  from  any  of  the  six  was  a smile  of  the  youngest 
boy.  A passing  news-agent  offered  the  boy  a book  for 
seventy-five  centavos.  With  slightly  widening  eyes  of 
momentary  interest  the  boy  looked  upon  the  gaily  deco- 
rated paper  cover,  then  turned  toward  his  uncle  and 
smiled  a half  startled  smile.  To  think  that  anyone 
might  imagine  that  he  could  afford  to  purchase  one  of 
those  magical  things,  a book ! 

“We  are  from  Chihuahua,”  the  old  man  told  us,  when 
we  had  gained  his  confidence.  “We  work  in  the  fields — 
all  of  us.  All  our  lives  we  have  been  farm  laborers  in 
the  corn  and  the  beans  and  the  melons  of  Chihuahua. 
But  now  we  are  running  away  from  it.  If  the  bosses 
would  pay  us  the  money  they  agree  to  pay,  we  could 
get  along,  but  they  never  pay  all — never.  This  time 
the  boss  paid  us  only  two-thirds  the  agreed  price,  yet 
I am  very  thankful  for  that  much,  for  he  might  have 
given  us  only  one-third,  as  others  have  done  in  the  past. 
What  can  I do?  Nothing.  I cannot  hire  a lawyer,  for 
the  lawyer  would  steal  the  other  two-thirds,  and  the 
boss  would  put  me  in  jail  besides.  Many  times  I and 
my  sons  have  gone  to  jail  for  asking  the  boss  to  pay 
us  the  full  amount  of  our  agreement.  My  sons  become 
angry  more  and  more  and  sometimes  I fear  one  may 
strike  the  boss  or  kill  him.  That  would  be  the  end 
of  us. 

“No,  the  best  thing  to  do,  I decided  at  last,  was  to 


114 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


get  away.  So  we  put  our  wages  together  and  used  our 
last  dollar  to  pay  for  tickets  to  Torreon,  where  we  hope 
to  find  work  in  the  cotton  fields.  I hear  we  can  get  one 
peso  a day  in  busy  times.  Is  it  so?  Or  will  it  be  the 
same  story  over  again  there  ? Perhaps  it  will.  But  what 
else  can  I do  but  try?  Work!  work!  work!  That’s  all 
there  is  for  us — and  nothing  in  return  for  the  work! 
We  do  not  drink ; we  are  not  lazy ; every  day  we  pray 
to  God.  Yet  debt  is  always  following  us,  begging  to 
be  taken  in.  Many  times  I have  wanted  to  borrow  just 
a little  from  my  boss,  but  my  wife  has  always  pleaded 
with  me.  ‘No,’  she  would  say,  ‘better  die  than  to  owe,  for 
owing  once  means  owing  forever — and  slavery.’ 

“But  sometimes,”  continued  the  old  man,  “I  think  it 
might  be  better  to  owe,  better  to  fall  in  debt,  better  to 
give  up  our  liberty  than  to  go  on  like  this  to  the  end. 
True,  I am  getting  old  and  I would  love  to  die  free,  but 
it  is  hard — too  hard !” 

The  three-quarters  of  a million  of  chattel  slaves  and 
the  five  million  peons  do  not  monopolize  the  economic 
misery  of  Mexico.  It  extends  to  every  class  of  men  that 
toils.  There  are  150,000  mine  and  smelter  workers  who 
receive  less  money  for  a week’s  labor  than  an  American 
miner  of  the  same  class  gets  for  a day’s  wages.  There 
are  30,000  cotton  mill  operatives  whose  wages  average 
less  than  thirty  cents  a day  in  American  money.  There 
are  a quarter  of  a million  domestic  servants  whose  wages 
range  from  one  to  five  dollars  a month.  There  are 
40,000  impressed  soldiers  who  get  less  than  two  dollars 
a month  above  the  scantiest  rations.  The  common  police- 
men of  Mexico  City,  2,000  of  them,  are  paid  but  fifty 
cents  a day  in  our  money.  Fifty  cents  a day  is  a high 
average  for  street-car  conductors  in  the  metropolis,  where 
wages  are  higher  than  in  any  other  section  of  the  coun- 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR  115 

try  except  close  to  the  American  border.  And  this  pro- 
portion is  constant  throughout  the  industries.  An  offer 
of  fifty  cents  a day  without  found,  would,  without  the 
slightest  doubt,  bring  in  Mexico  City  an  army  of  50,000 
able-bodied  laborers  inside  of  twenty-four  hours. 

From  such  miserable  wages  it  must  not  be  guessed 
that  the  cost  of  the  necessities  of  life  are  less  than  they 
are  here,  as  in  the  case  of  other  low  wage  countries,  such 
as  India  and  China.  On  the  contrary,  the  cost  of  corn 
and  beans,  upon  which  the  mass  of  the  Mexican  people 
eke  out  their  existence,  is  actually  higher,  as  a rule,  than 
it  is  in  the  United  States.  At  this  writing  it  costs  nearly 
twice  as  much  money  to  buy  a hundred  pounds  of  corn 
in  Mexico  City  as  it  does  in  Chicago,  and  that  in  the 
same  money,  American  gold  or  Mexican  silver,  take  it  as 
you  like  it.  And  this  is  the  cheapest  staple  that  the 
poverty-stricken  Mexican  is  able  to  lay  his  hands  upon. 

As  to  clothing  and  shelter,  the  common  Mexican  has 
about  as  little  of  either  as  can  be  imagined.  The  tene- 
ments of  New  York  City  are  palatial  homes  compared  to 
the  tenements  of  Mexico  City.  A quarter  of  a mile  in 
almost  any  direction  off  Diaz’s  grand  Paseo  de  la 
Re  forma,  the  magnificent  driveway  over  which  tourists 
are  always  taken  and  by  which  they  usually  judge  Mexi- 
co, will  carry  the  investigator  into  conditions  that  are 
not  seen  in  any  city  worthy  the  name  of  civilized.  If  in 
all  Mexico  there  exists  a city  with  a really  modern  sewer 
system  I am  ignorant  of  its  name. 

Travelers  who  have  stopped  at  the  best  hotels  of  the 
metropolis  may  raise  their  eyebrows  at  this  last  state- 
ment, but  a little  investigation  will  show  that  not  more 
than  one-fifth  of  the  houses  within  the  limits  of  that 
metropolis  are  regularly  supplied  with  water  with  which 
to  flush  the  sewers,  while  there  are  many  densely  popu- 


116 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


lated  blocks  which  have  no  public  water  whatsoever, 
neither  for  sewer  flushing  nor  for  drinking. 

It  will  take  a few  minutes’  reflection  to  realize  what 
this  really  means.  As  a result  of  such  unsanitary  con- 
ditions the  death  rate  in  that  city  ranges  always  between 
5 and  6 per  cent,  usually  nearer  the  latter  figure,  which 
places  that  percentage  at  more  than  double  the  death 
rate  of  well-regulated  cities  of  Europe,  the  United 
States  and  even  of  South  America.  Which  proves  that 
half  the  people  who  die  in  Diaz’s  metropolis  die  of  causes 
which  modern  cities  have  abolished. 

A life-long  resident  once  estimated  to  me  that  200,000 
people  of  the  country’s  metropolis,  or  two-fifths  the 
entire  population,  spend  every  night  on  the  stones.  “On 
the  stones”  means  not  on  the  streets,  for  sleeping  is  not 
permitted  on  the  streets  or  in  the  parks,  but  on  the  floors 
of  cheap  tenements  or  lodging  houses. 

Possibly  this  is  an  exaggeration.  From  my  own  ob- 
servations, however,  I know  that  100,000  would  be  a 
very  conservative  estimate.  And  at  least  25,000  pass  the 
nights  in  mesones — the  name  commonly  applied  to  the 
cheapest  class  of  transient  lodging  houses. 

A meson  is  a pit  of  such  misery  as  is  surpassed  only 
by  the  galcras,  the  sleeping  jails,  of  the  contract  slaves 
of  the  hot  lands — and  the  dormitories  of  the  Mexican 
prisons.  The  chief  difference  between  the  mesones  and 
the  galcras  is  that  into  the  latter  the  slaves  are  driven, 
tottering  from  overwork,  semi-starvation  and  fever — 
driven  with  whips  and  locked  in  when  they  are  there; 
while  to  the  mesones  the  ragged,  ill-nourished  wretches 
from  the  city’s  streets  come  to  buy  with  three  precious 
copper  centavos  a brief  and  scanty  shelter — a bare  spot  to 
lie  down  in,  a grass  mat,  company  with  the  vermin  that 
squalor  breeds,  rest  in  a sickening  room  with  hundreds 


mB 


MIDNIGHT  IN  A MEXICO  CITY  "MESON  , CHEAP  LODGING  HOUSE  OF  THE  POOR.  ONE  PAY'S  THREE  CENTAVOS  FOR  A GRASS 
MAT  AND  HUNTS  A PLACE  TO  LIE  DOWN  IN  THE  ENCLOSURE.  FROM  A FLASHLIGHT  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR  117 

of  others — snoring,  tossing,  groaning  brothers  and  sisters 
in  woe. 

During  my  most  recent  visit  to  Mexico — in  the  winter 
and  spring  of  1909 — I visited  many  of  these  mesones  and 
took  a number  of  flashlight  photos  of  the  inmates.  The 
conditions  in  all  I found  to  be  the  same.  The  buildings 
are  ancient  ones — often  hundreds  of  years  old — which 
have  been  abandoned  as  unfit  for  any  other  purposes  than 
as  sleeping  places  for  the  country’s  poor.  For  three 
centavos  the  pilgrim  gets  a grass  mat  and  the  privilege 
of  hunting  for  a bare  spot  large  enough  to  lie  down  in. 
On  cold  nights  the  floor  and  yards  are  so  thick  with 
bodies  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  find  footing  between  the 
sleepers.  In  one  room  I have  counted  as  high  as  two 
hundred. 

Poor  women  and  girls  must  sleep,  as  well  as  poor  men 
and  boys,  and  if  they  cannot  afford  more  than  three 
cents  for  a bed  they  must  go  to  the  mesones  with  the 
men.  In  not  one  of  the  mesones  that  I visited  was  there 
a separate  room  for  the  women  and  girls,  though  there 
were  many  women  and  girls  among  the  inmates.  Like 
a man,  a girl  pays  her  three  cents  and  gets  a grass  mat. 
She  may  come  early  and  find  a comparatively  secluded 
nook  in  which  to  rest  her  weary  body.  But  there  is 
nothing  to  prevent  a man  from  coming  along,  lying  down 
beside  her  and  annoying  her  throughout  the  night. 

And  this  thing  is  done.  More  than  once,  in  my  visits 
to  mesones , I saw  a young  and  unprotected  girl  awakened 
from  her  sleep  and  solicited  by  a strange  man  whose 
roving  eye  had  lighted  upon  her  as  he  came  into  the 
place.  The  mesones  breed  immorality  as  appallingly  as 
they  breed  vermin.  Homeless  girls  do  not  go  to  mesones 
because  they  are  bad,  but  because  they  are  poor.  These 
places  are  licensed  by  the  authorities  and  it  would  be  a 


118 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


simple  matter  to  require  the  proprietors  to  set  apart  a 
portion  of  the  space  exclusively  for  women.  But  this  the 
authorities  have  not  the  decency  to  do. 

Miserable  as  are  the  mesones,  the  25,000  homeless 
Mexicans  who  spend  their  nights  there  are  fortunate  com- 
pared to  the  thousands  of  others  who,  when  the  shadows 
fall  upon  them,  find  that  they  cannot  produce  the  three 
centavos  to  pay  for  a grass  mat  and  a spot  on  a bare 
floor.  Every  night  there  is  a hegira  of  these  thousands 
from  the  city’s  streets.  Carrying  what  pitiful  belongings 
they  have,  if  they  have  any  belongings,  moving  along 
hand  in  hand,  if  they  are  a family  together,  husband  and 
wife,  or  merely  friends  drawn  closer  together  by  their 
poverty ; they  travel  for  miles,  out  of  the  city  to  the  open 
roads  and  fields,  the  great  stock  farms  belonging  to  men 
high  up  in  the  councils  of  the  government.  Here  they  hud- 
dle about  on  the  ground,  shivering  in  the  cold,  for  few 
nights  in  that  altitude  are  not  so  cold  that  covering  is  not 
sorely  needed.  In  the  morning  they  travel  back  to  the 
heart  of  the  city,  there, to  pit  their  feeble  strength  against 
the  Powers  that  are  conspiring  to  prevent  them  from 
earning  a living;  there,  after  vain  and  discouraging  strug- 
gles, at  last  to  fall  into  the  net  of  the  “labor  agent,”  who 
is  on  the  lookout  for  slaves  for  his  wealthy  clients,  the 
planters  of  the  lowland  states. 

Mexico  contains  767,000  square  miles.  Acre  for  acre, 
it  is  as  rich  as,  if  not  richer  than  the  United  States.  It 
has  fine  harbors  on  both  coasts.  It  is  approximately  as 
near  the  world’s  markets  as  are  we.  There  is  no  natural 
or  geographical  reason  why  its  people  should  not  be  as 
prosperous  and  happy  as  any  in  the  world.  In  point  of 
years  it  is  an  older  country  than  ours.  It  is  not  over- 
populated.  With  a population  of  15,000,000,  it  has 
eighteen  souls  to  the  square  mile,  which  is  slightly  less 


WAIFS,  MOTHER  AND  SON,  IN  A ‘'MESON”.  TWENTY  THOUSAND 
SLEEP  THIS  WAY  EVERY  NIGHT  IN  DIAZ’S  CAPITAL  ALONE. 
FLASHLIGHT  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


GROUP  OF  HOMELESS  CHILDREN  IN  A CORNER  OF  A “MESON”,  MID- 
NIGHT. THOUGH  THESE  PLACES  ARE  LICENSED  BY  THE  AU- 
THORITIES. THERE  IS  NO  SEGREGATION  OF  THE  SEXES 


THE  COUNTRY  PEONS  AND  THE  CITY  POOR 


119 


than  we  have  here.  Yet,  seeing  the  heart  of  Mexico,  it 
is  inconceivable  that  there  could  be  more  extreme  pov- 
erty in  all  the  world.  India  or  China  could  not  be  worse 
off,  for  if  they  were,  acute  starvation  would  depopulate 
them.  Mexico  is  a people  starved — a nation  prostrate. 
What  is  the  reason  ? Who  is  to  blame  ? 


CHAPTER  VII 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 

The  slavery  and  peonage  of  Mexico,  the  poverty  and 
illiteracy,  the  general  prostration  of  the  people,  are  due, 
in  my  humble  judgment,  to  the  financial  and  political 
organization  that  at  present  rules  that  country — in  a 
word,  to  what  I shall  call  the  “system”  of  General 
Porfirio  Diaz. 

That  these  conditions  can  be  traced  in  a measure  to 
the  history  of  Mexico  during  past  generations,  is  true.  I 
do  not  wish  to  be  unfair  to  General  Diaz  in  the  least 
degree.  The  Spanish  Dons  made  slaves  and  peons  of 
the  Mexican  people.  Yet  never  did  they  grind  the  people 
as  they  are  ground  today.  In  Spanish  times  the  peon  at 
least  had  his  own  little  patch  of  ground,  his  own  hum- 
ble shelter ; today  he  has  nothing.  Moreover,  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  proclaimed  just  one  hundred 
years  ago,  in  1810,  proclaimed  also  the  abolition  of  chat- 
tel slavery.  Slavery  was  abolished,  though  not  entirely. 
Succeeding  Mexican  governments  of  class  and  of  church 
and  of  the  individual  held  the  people  in  bondage  little 
less  severe.  But  finally  came  a democratic  movement 
which  broke  the  back  of  the  church,  which  overthrew  the 
rule  of  caste,  which  adopted  a form  of  government  as 
modern  as  our  own,  which  freed  the  slave  in  fact  as 
well  as  in  name,  which  gave  the  lands  of  the  people  back 
to  the  people,  which  wiped  the  slate  clean  of  the  blood 
of  the  past. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  General  Porfirio  Diaz,  with- 
out any  valid  excuse  and  apparently  for  no  other  reason 


120 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


121 


than  personal  ambition,  stirred  up  a series  of  revolu- 
tions which  finally  ended  in  his  capture  of  the  govern- 
mental powers  of  the  land.  While  professing  to  respect 
the  progressive  institutions  which  Juarez  and  Lerdo  had 
established  before  him,  he  built  up  a system  all  his  own, 
a system  in  which  he  personally  was  the  central  and 
all-controlling  figure,  in  which  his  individual  caprice  was 
the  constitution  and  the  law,  in  which  all  circumstances 
and  all  men,  big  and  little,  were  bent  or  broken  at  his 
will.  Like  Louis  XIV,  The  State — Porfirio  Diaz  was 
The  State ! 

It  was  under  Porfirio  Diaz  that  slavery  and  peonage 
were  re-established  in  Mexico,  and  on  a more  merciless 
basis  than  they  had  existed  even  under  the  Spanish 
Dons.  Therefore,  I can  see  no  injustice  in  charging  at  least 
a preponderance  of  the  blame  for  these  conditions  upon 
the  system  of  Diaz. 

I say  the  “system  of  Diaz”  rather  than  Diaz  personally 
because,  though  he  is  the  keystone  of  the  arch,  though  he 
is  the  government  of  Mexico  more  completely  than  is 
any  other  individual  the  government  of  any  large  coun- 
try on  the  planet,  yet  no  one  man  can  stand  alone  in  his 
iniquity.  Diaz  is  the  central  prop  of  the  slavery,  but 
there  are  other  props  without  which  the  system  could 
not  continue  upright  for  a single  day.  For  example, 
there  is  the  collection  of  commercial  interests  which  profit 
by  the  Diaz  system  of  slavery  and  autocracy,  and  which 
puts  no  insignificant  part  of  its  tremendous  powers  to 
holding  the  central  prop  upright  in  exchange  for  the 
special  privileges  that  it  receives.  Not  the  least  among 
these  commercial  interests  are  American,  which,  I blush 
to  say,  are  quite  as  aggressive  defenders  of  the  Diaz 
citadel  as  any.  Indeed,  as  I shall  show  in  future  chap- 
ters, these  American  interests  undoubtedly  form  the 


122 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


determining  force  in  the  continuation  of  Mexican  slavery. 
Thus  does  Mexican  slavery  come  home  to  us  in  the  full 
sense  of  the  term.  For  the  horrors  of  Yucatan  and  Valle 
Nacional,  Diaz  is  to  blame,  but  so  are  we;  we  are  to 
blame  insofar  as  governmental  powers  over  which  we 
are  conceded  to  have  some  control  are  employed  under 
our  very  eyes  for  the  perpetuation  of  a regime  of  which 
slavery  and  peonage  are  an  integral  part. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  understand  the  Diaz  sys- 
tem and  its  responsibility  in  the  degradation  of  the 
Mexican  people,  it  will  be  well  to  go  back  and  trace 
briefly  the  beginnings  of  that  system.  Mexico  is  spoken 
of  throughout  the  world  as  a Republic.  That  is  because 
it  was  once  a Republic  and  still  pretends  to  be  one. 
Mexico  has  a constitution  which  has  never  been  repealed, 
a constitution  said  to  be  modeled  after  our  own,  and  one 
which  is,  indeed,  like  ours  in  the  main.  Like  ours,  it  pro- 
vides for  a national  congress,  state  legislatures  and 
municipal  aldermen  to  make  the  laws,  federal,  state  and 
local  judges  to  interpret  them,  and  a president,  governors 
and  local  executives  to  administer  them.  Like  ours,  it 
provides  for  manhood  suffrage,  freedom  of  the  press  and 
of  speech,  equality  before  the  law,  and  the  other  guar- 
antees of  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  which 
we  ourselves  enjoy,  in  a degree,  as  a matter  of  course. 

Such  was  Mexico  forty  years  ago.  Forty  years  ago 
Mexico  was  at  peace  with  the  world.  She  had  just  over- 
thrown, after  a heroic  war,  the  foreign  prince,  Maxi- 
milian, who  had  been  seated  as  emperor  by  the  armies 
of  Napoleon  Third  of  France.  Her  president,  Benito 
Juarez,  is  today  recognized  in  Mexico  and  out  of  Mexico 
as  one  of  the  most  able  as  well  as  unselfish  patriots  of 
Mexican  history.  Never  since  Cortez  fired  his  ships  there 
on  the  gulf  coast  had  Mexico  enjoyed  such  prospects  of 


TI-IE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


123 


political  freedom,  industrial  prosperity  and  general  ad- 
vancement. 

But  in  spite  of  these  facts  and  the  additional  fact  that 
he  was  deeply  indebted  to  Juarez,  all  his  military  pro- 
motions having  been  received  at  the  hands  of  the  latter, 
General  Porfirio  Diaz  stirred  up  a series  of  rebellions 
for  the  purpose  of  securing  for  himself  the  supreme 
power  of  the  land.  Diaz  not  only  led  one  armed  rebel- 
lion against  a peaceable,  constitutional  and  popularly  ap- 
proved government,  but  he  led  three  of  them.  For  nine 
years  he  plotted  as  a common  rebel.  The  support  that 
he  received  came  chiefly  from  bandits,  criminals  and  pro- 
fessional soldiers  who  were  disgruntled  at  the  anti-mili- 
tarist policy  which  Juarez  had  inaugurated  and  which,  if 
he  could  have  carried  it  out  a little  farther,  would  have 
been  effective  in  preventing  military  revolutions  in  the 
future — and  from  the  Catholic  church. 

Repeatedly  it  was  proved  that  the  people  did  not  want 
Diaz  at  the  head  of  their  government.  Three  times  dur- 
ing his  first  five  years  of  plotting  he  was  an  unsuccessful 
candidate  at  the  polls.  In  1867  he  received  a little  more 
than  one-third  the  votes  counted  for  Juarez.  In  1871  he 
received  about  three-fifths  as  many  votes  as  Juarez.  In 
1872,  after  the  death  of  Juarez,  he  ran  against  Lerdo  de 
Tejada  and  received  only  one-fifteenth  as  many  votes  as 
his  opponent.  While  in  arms  he  was  looked  upon  as  a 
common  rebel  at  home  and  abroad  and  when  he  marched 
into  the  national  capital  at  the  head  of  a victorious 
army  and  proclaimed  himself  president  hardly  a Euro- 
pean nation  would  at  first  recognize  the  upstart  govern- 
ment, while  the  United  States  for  a time  threatened 
complications. 

In  defiance  of  the  will  of  the  majority  of  the  people 
cf  Mexico,  General  Diaz,  thirty-four  years  ago,  came  to 


124 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  head  of  government.  In  defiance  of  the  will  of  the 
majority  of  the  people  he  has  remained  there  ever  since — 
except  for  four  years,  from  1880  to  1884,  when  he 
turned  the  palace  over  to  an  intimate  friend,  Manuel 
Gonzalez,  on  the  distinct  understanding  that  at  the  end 
of  the  four  years  Gonzalez  would  turn  it  back  to  him 
again. 

Since  no  man  can  rule  an  unwilling  people  without 
taking  away  the  liberties  of  that  people,  it  can  be  very 
easily  understood  what  sort  of  regime  General  Diaz  found 
it  necessary  to  establish  in  order  to  make  his  power 
secure.  By  the  use  of  the  army  and  the  police  powers 
generally,  he  controlled  elections,  the  press  and  public 
speech  and  made  of  popular  government  a farce.  By 
distributing  the  public  offices  among  his  generals  and 
granting  them  free  rein  to  plunder  at  will,  he  assured 
himself  of  the  continued  use  of  the  army.  By  making 
political  combinations  with  men  high  in  the  esteem  of 
the  Catholic  church  and  permitting  it  to  be  whispered 
about  that  the  church  was  to  regain  some  of  its  former 
powers,  he  gained  the  silent  support  of  the  priests  and  the 
Pope.  By  promising  full  payment  of  all  foreign  debts 
and  launching  at  once  upon  a policy  of  distributing 
favors  among  citizens  of  other  countries,  he  made  his 
peace  with  the  world  at  large. 

In  other  words,  General  Diaz,  with  a skill  that  none 
can  deny,  annexed  to  himself  all  the  elements  of  power  in 
the  country  except  the  nation  at  large.  On  the  one  hand, 
he  had  a military  dictatorship.  On  the  other,  he  had  a 
financial  camarilla.  Himself  was  the  center  of  the  arch 
and  he  was  compelled  to  pay  the  price.  The  price  was  the 
nation  at  large.  He  created  a machine  and  oiled  the 
machine  with  the  flesh  and  blood  of  a people.  He  re- 
warded all  except  the  people;  the  people  were  the  sacri- 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


125 


flee.  Inevitable  as  the  blackness  of  night,  in  contrast  to 
the  sun-glory  of  the  dictator,  came  the  degradation  of 
the  people — the  slavery,  the  peonage  and  every  misery 
that  walks  with  poverty,  the  abolition  of  democracy  and 
the  personal  security  that  breeds  providence,  self-respect 
and  worthy  ambition ; in  a word,  general  demoralization, 
depravity. 

Take,  for  example,  Diaz’s  method  of  rewarding  his 
military  chiefs,  the  men  who  helped  him  overthrow  the 
government  of  Lerdo.  As  quickly  as  possible  after 
assuming  the  power,  he  installed  his  generals  as  governors 
of  the  various  states  and  organized  them  and  other  influ- 
ential figures  in  the  nation  into  a national  plunderbund. 
Thus  he  assured  himself  of  the  continued  loyalty  of  the 
generals,  on  the  one  hand,  and  put  them  where  he  could 
most  effectively  use  them  for  keeping  down  the  people,  on 
the  other.  One  variety  of  rich  plum  which  he  handed  out 
in  those  early  days  to  his  governors  came  in  the  form  of 
charters  giving  his  governors  the  right,  as  individuals,  to 
organize  companies  and  build  railroads,  each  charter 
carrying  with  it  a huge  sum  as  a railroad  subsidy. 

The  national  government  paid  for  the  road  and  then 
the  governor  and  his  most  influential  friends  owned  it. 
Usually  the  railroads  were  ridiculous  affairs,  were  of 
narrow-gauge  and  of  the  very  cheapest  materials,  but 
the  subsidy  was  very  large,  sufficient  to  build  the  road 
and  probably  equip  it  besides.  During  his  first  term  of 
four  years  in  office  Diaz  passed  sixty-one  railroad  sub- 
sidy acts  containing  appropriations  aggregating  $40,000,- 
000,  and  all  but  two  or  three  of  these  acts  were  in  favor 
of  governors  of  states.  In  a number  of  cases  not  a mile 
of  railroad  was  actually  built,  but  the  subsidies  are  sup- 
posed to  have  been  paid,  anyhow.  In  nearly  every  case 
the  subsidy  was  the  same,  $12,880  per  mile  in  Mexican 


126 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


silver,  and  in  those  days  Mexican  silver  was  nearly  on  a 
par  with  gold. 

This  huge  sum  was  taken  out  of  the  national  treasury 
and  was  supposedly  paid  to  the  governors,  although 
Mexican  politicians  of  the  old  times  have  assured  me  that 
it  was  divided,  a part  going  out  as  actual  subsidies  and  a 
part  going  directly  into  the  hands  of  Diaz  to  be  used  in 
building  up  his  machine  in  other  quarters. 

Certainly  something  more  than  mere  loyalty,  however 
invaluable  it  was,  was  required  of  the  governors  in 
exchange  for  such  rich  financial  plums.  It  is  a well 
authenticated  fact  that  governors  were  required  to  pay  a 
fixed  sum  annually  for  the  privilege  of  exploiting  to  the 
limit  the  graft  possibilities  of  their  offices.  For  a long 
time  Manuel  Romero  Rubio,  father-in-law  of  Diaz,  was 
the  collector  of  these  perquisites,  the  offices  bringing  in 
anywhere  from  $10,000  to  $50,000  per  year. 

The  largest  single  perquisite  whereby  Diaz  enriched 
himself,  the  members  of  his  immediate  family,  his 
friends,  his  governors,  his  financial  ring  and  his  foreign 
favorites,  was  found  for  a long  time  in  the  confiscation  of 
the  lands  of  the  common  people — a confiscation,  in  fact, 
which  is  going  on  to  this  day.  Note  that  this  land  rob- 
bery was  the  first  direct  step  in  the  path  of  the  Mexican 
people  back  to  their  bondage  as  slaves  and  peons. 

In  a previous  chapter  I showed  how  the  lands  of  the 
Yaquis  of  Sonora  were  taken  from  them  and  given  to 
political  favorites  of  the  ruler.  The  lands  of  the  Mayas 
of  Yucatan,  now  enslaved  by  the  henequen  planters,  were 
taken  from  them  in  almost  the  same  manner.  The  final 
act  in  this  confiscation  was  accomplished  in  the  year 
1904,  when  the  national  government  set  aside  the  last  of 
their  lands  into  a territory  called  Quintana  Roo.  This 
territory  contains  43,000  square  kilometers  or  27,000 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


127 


square  miles.  It  is  larger  than  the  present  state  of 
Yucatan  by  8,000  square  kilometers,  and  moreover  is  the 
most  promising  land  of  the  entire  peninsula.  Separated 
from  the  island  of  Cuba  by  a narrow  strait,  its  soil  and 
climate  are  strikingly  similar  to  those  of  Cuba  and  ex- 
perts have  declared  that  there  is  no  reason  why  Quintana 
Roo  should  not  one  day  become  as  great  a tobacco-grow- 
ing country  as  Cuba.  Further  than  that,  its  hillsides  are 
thickly  covered  with  the  most  valuable  cabinet  and  dye- 
woods  in  the  world.  It  is  this  magnificent  country  which, 
as  the  last  chapter  in  the  life  of  the  Mayas  as  a nation,  the 
Diaz  government  took  and  handed  over  to  eight  Mexican 
politicians. 

In  like  manner  have  the  Mayos  of  Sonora,  the  Papagos, 
the  Tomosachics — in  fact,  practically  all  the  native  peoples 
of  Mexico — been  reduced  to  peonage,  if  not  to  slavery. 
Small  holders  of  every  tribe  and  nation  have  gradually 
been  expropriated  until  today  their  number  as  property 
holders  is  almost  down  to  zero.  Their  lands  are  in  the 
hands  of  members  of  the  governmental  machine,  or  per- 
sons to  whom  the  members  of  the  machine  have  sold  for 
profit — or  in  the  hands  of  foreigners. 

This  is  why  the  typical  Mexican  farm  is  the  million- 
acre  farm,  why  it  has  been  so  easy  for  such  Americans  as 
William  Randolph  Hearst,  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  E.  H. 
Harriman,  the  Rockefellers,  the  Guggenheims  and  nu- 
merous others  each  to  have  obtained  possession  of  mil- 
lions of  Mexican  acres.  This  is  why  Secretary  of 
Fomento  Molina  holds  more  than  15,000,000  acres  of  the 
soil  of  Mexico,  why  ex-Governor  Terrazas,  of  Chihuahua, 
owns  15,000,000  acres  of  the  soil  of  that  state,  why 
Finance  Minister  Limantour,  Mrs.  Porfirio  Diaz,  Vice- 
President  Corral,  Governor  Pimentel,  of  Chiapas,  Gover- 
nor Landa  y Escandon  of  the  Federal  District,  Governor 


128 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Pablo  Escandon  of  Morelos,  Governor  Ahumada  of 
Jalisco,  Governor  Cosio  of  Queretaro,  Governor  Mercado 
of  Michoacan,  Governor  Canedo  of  Sinaloa,  Governor 
Cahuantzi  of  Tlaxcala,  and  many  other  members  of  the 
Diaz  machine  are  not  only  millionaires,  but  they  are 
millionaires  in  Mexican  real  estate. 

Chief  among  the  methods  used  in  getting  the  lands 
away  from  the  people  in  general  was  through  a land  regis- 
tration law  which  Diaz  fathered.  This  law  permitted  any 
person  to  go  out  and  claim  any  lands  to  which  the  pos- 
sessor could  not  prove  a recorded  title.  Since  up  to  the 
time  the  law  was  enacted  it  was  not  the  custom  to  record 
titles,  this  meant  all  the  lands  of  Mexico.  When  a man 
possessed  a home  which  his  father  had  possessed  before 
him,  and  which  his  grandfather  had  possessed,  which 
his  great-grandfather  had  possessed,  and  which  had  been 
in  the  family  as  far  back  as  history  knew,  then  he  con- 
sidered that  he  owned  that  home,  all  of  his  neighbors  con- 
sidered that  he  owned  it,  and  all  governments  up  to  that 
of  Diaz  recognized  his  right  to  that  home. 

Supposing  that  a strict  registration  law  became  neces- 
sary in  the  course  of  evolution,  had  this  law  been  enacted 
for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the  land  owners  instead  of 
plundering  them  the  government  would,  naturally,  have 
sent  agents  through  the  country  to  apprise  the  people 
of  the  new  law  and  to  help  them  register  their  property 
and  keep  their  homes.  But  this  was  not  done  and  the 
conclusion  is  inevitable  that  the  law  was  passed  for  the 
purpose  of  plundering. 

At  all  events,  the  result  of  the  law  was  a plundering. 
No  sooner  had  it  been  passed  than  the  aforesaid  mem- 
bers of  the  governmental  machine,  headed  by  the  father- 
in-law  of  Diaz,  and  Diaz  himself,  formed  land  companies 
and  sent  out  agents,  not  to  help  the  people  keep  their 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEIvI 


129 


lands,  but  to  select  the  most  desirable  lands  in  the 
country,  register  them,  and  evict  the  owners.  This  they 
did  on  a most  tremendous  scale.  Thus  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  small  farmers  lost  their  property.  Thus 
small  farmers  are  still  losing  their  property.  In  order 
to  cite  an  example,  I reprint  a dispatch  dated  Merida, 
Yucatan,  April  11,  1909,  and  published  April  12  in  the 
Mexican  Herald,  an  American  daily  newspaper  printed 
in  Mexico  City: 

“Merida,  April  11. — Minister  Olegario  Molina,  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  Fomento,  Colonization  and  Industry,  has  made  a 
denouncement  before  the  agency  here  of  extensive  territory  lying 
adjacent  to  his  lands  in  Tizimin  partido.  The  denouncement 
was  made  through  Esteban  Rejon  Garcia,  his  administrador  at 
that  place. 

“The  section  was  taken  on  the  ground  that  those  now  occupy- 
ing them  have  no  documents  or  titles  of  ownership. 

“They  measure  2,700  hectares  (about  6,000  acres,  or  over  nine 
square  miles),  and  include  perfectly  organized  towns,  some  fine 
ranches,  including  those  of  Laureano  Breseno  and  Rafael 
Aguilar,  and  other  properties.  The  jefe  politico  of  Tizimin  has 
notified  the  population  of  the  town,  the  owners  and  laborers  on 
the  ranches,  and  others  on  the  lands,  that  they  will  be  obliged 
to  vacate  within  two  months  or  become  subject  to  the  new 
owner. 

“The  present  occupants  have  lived  for  years  upon  the  land 
and  have  cultivated  and  improved  much  of  it.  Some  have 
lived  there  from  generation  to  generation,  and  have  thought 
themselves  the  rightful  owners,  having  inherited  it  from  the 
original  ‘squatters.’ 

“ Mr . Rejon  Garcia  has  also  denounced  other  similar  public 
lands  in  the  Espita  partido.” 

Another  favorite  means  of  confiscating  the  homes  of 
small  owners  is  found  in  the  juggling  of  state  taxes. 
State  taxes  in  Mexico  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
made.  Especially  in  the  less  populous  districts  owners 
are  taxed  inversely  as  they  stand  in  favor  with  the 


130 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


personality  who  represents  the  government  in  their  par- 
ticular district.  No  court,  board  or  other  responsible 
body  sits  to  review  unjust  assessments.  The  jcfc  politico 
may  charge  one  farmer  five  times  as  much  per  acre  as 
he  charges  the  farmer  across  the  fence,  and  yet  Farmer 
No.  1 has  no  redress  unless  he  is  rich  and  powerful.  He 
must  pay,  and  if  he  cannot,  the  farm  is  a little  later  listed 
among  the  properties  of  the  jcfc  politico,  or  one  of  the 
members  of  his  family,  or  among  the  properties  of  the 
governor  of  the  state  or  one  of  the  members  of  his  family. 
But  if  he  is  rich  and  powerful  he  is  often  not  taxed  at  all. 
American  promoters  in  Mexico  escape  taxation  so  nearly 
invariably  that  the  impression  has  got  abroad  in  this 
country  that  land  pays  no  taxes  in  Mexico.  Even 
Frederick  Palmer  made  a statement  to  this  effect  in  his 
recent  writings  about  that  country. 

Of  course  such  bandit  methods  as  were  employed  and 
are  still  employed  were  certain  to  meet  with  resistance, 
and  so  we  find  numerous  instances  of  regiments  of  sol- 
diers being  called  out  to  enforce  collection  of  taxes  or 
the  eviction  of  time-honored  land-holders.  Mexican  his- 
tory of  the  past  generation  is  blotched  with  stories  of 
massacres  having  their  cause  in  this  thing.  Among  the 
most  noted  of  these  massacres  are  those  of  Papantla  and 
Tomosachic.  Manuel  Romero  Rubio,  the  late  father-in- 
law  of  General  Diaz,  denounced  the  lands  of  several  thou- 
sand farmers  in  the  vicinity  of  Papantla,  Veracruz.  Diaz 
backed  him  up  with  several  regiments  of  regulars  and 
before  the  farmers  were  all  evicted  four  hundred,  or 
some  such  number,  were  killed.  In  the  year  1892,  General 
Lauro  Carrillo,  who  was  then  governor  of  Chihuahua,  laid 
a tax  on  the  town  of  Tomosachic,  center  of  the  Tomosa- 
chic settlement,  which  it  was  impossible  for  the  people  to 
pay.  The  immediate  cause  of  the  exorbitant  tax,  so  the 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


131 


story  goes,  was  that  the  authorities  of  the  town  had  re- 
fused Carrillo  some  paintings  which  adorned  the  walls  of 
their  church  and  which  he  desired  for  his  own  home.  Car- 
rillo carried  away  some  leading  men  of  the  town  as  host- 
ages, and  when  the  people  still  refused  to  pay,  he  sent  sol- 
diers for  more  hostages.  The  soldiers  were  driven  away, 
after  which  Carrillo  laid  siege  to  the  town  with  eight 
regiments.  In  the  end  the  town  was  burned  and  a 
churchful  of  women  and  children  were  burned,  too. 
Accounts  of  the  Tomosachic  massacre  place  the  number 
of  killed  variously  at  from  800  to  2,000. 

Cases  of  more  recent  blood  spillings  in  the  same  cause 
are  numerous.  Hardly  a month  passes  today  without 
there  being  one  or  more  reports  in  Mexican  papers  of 
disturbances,  the  result  of  confiscation  of  homes,  either 
through  the  denunciation  method  or  the  excuse  of  non- 
payment of  taxes.  Notable  among  these  was  the  case  of 
San  Andreas,  State  of  Chihuahua,  which  was  exploited  in 
the  Mexican  press  in  April,  1909.  According  to  those 
press  reports,  the  state  authorities  confiscated  lands  of 
several  score  of  farmers,  the  excuse  being  that  the  own- 
ers were  delinquent  in  their  taxes.  The  farmers  resisted 
eviction  in  a body  and  two  carloads  of  troops,  hurried  to 
the  scene  from  the  capital  of  the  state,  promptly  cleaned 
them  out,  shooting  some  and  chasing  half  a hundred  of 
them  into  the  mountains.  Here  they  stayed  until  starved 
out,  when  they  straggled  back,  begging  for  mercy.  As 
they  came  they  were  thrown  into  jail,  men,  women  and 
children.  The  government  carefully  concealed  the  truth 
as  to  the  number  killed  in  the  skirmish  with  the  troops, 
but  reports  place  it  at  from  five  to  twenty-five. 

An  incident  of  the  same  class  was  that  of  San  Carlos, 
also  in  the  State  of  Chihuahua,  which  occurred  in 
August,  1909.  At  San  Carlos,  center  of  a farming  dis- 


132 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


trict,  the  misuse  of  the  taxing  power  became  so  unbear- 
able that  four  hundred  small  farmers  banded  together, 
defied  a force  of  fifty  ruralcs,  forcibly  deposed  the  jcfc 
politico,  and  elected  another  in  his  place,  then  went  back 
to  their  plows.  It  was  a little  revolution  which  the  news- 
paper reports  of  the  time  declared  was  the  first  of  its 
kind  to  which  the  present  government  of  Mexico  ever 
yielded.  Whether  the  popularly  constituted  local  gov- 
ernment was  permitted  to  remain  or  whether  it  was 
later  overthrown  by  a regiment  of  soldiers  is  not  re- 
corded, though  the  latter  seems  most  likely. 

Graft  is  an  established  institution  in  the  public  offices 
of  Mexico.  It  is  a right  vested  in  the  office  itself,  is 
recognized  as  such,  and  is  respectable.  There  are  two 
main  functions  attached  to  each  public  office,  one  a 
privilege,  the  other  a duty.  The  privilege  is  that  of 
using  the  special  powers  of  the  office  for  the  amassing 
of  a personal  fortune;  the  duty  is  that  of  preventing  the 
people  from  entering  into  any  activities  that  may  endan- 
ger the  stability  of  the  existing  regime.  Theoretically, 
the  fulfillment  of  the  duty  is  judged  as  balancing  the 
harvest  of  the  privilege,  but  with  all  offices  and  all  places 
this  is  not  so,  and  so  we  find  offices  of  particularly  rosy 
possibilities  selling  for  a fixed  price.  Examples  are  those 
of  the  jcfcs  politicos  in  districts  where  the  slave  trade  is 
peculiarly  remunerative,  as  at  Pachuca,  Oaxaca,  Vera- 
cruz, Orizaba,  Cordoba  and  Rio  Blanco;  of  the  districts 
in  which  the  drafting  of  soldiers  for  the  army  is  especially 
let  to  the  jcfcs  politicos;  of  the  towns  in  which  the 
gambling  privileges  are  let  as  a monopoly  to  the  mayors 
thereof ; of  the  states  in  which  there  exist  opportunities 
extraordinary  for  governors  to  graft  off  the  army  supply 
contracts. 

Monopolies  called  “concessions,”  which  are  nothing 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


133 


more  nor  less  than  trusts  created  by  governmental  decree, 
are  dealt  in  openly  by  the  Mexican  government.  Some  of 
these  concessions  are  sold  for  cash,  but  the  rule  is  to  give 
them  away  gratis  or  for  a nominal  price,  the  real  price 
being  collected  in  political  support.  The  public  domain 
is  sold  in  huge  tracts  for  a nominal  price  or  for  nothing 
at  all,  the  money  price,  when  paid  at  all,  averaging  about 
fifty  Mexican  centavos  an  acre.  But  never  does  the 
government  sell  to  any  individual  or  company  not  of  its 
own  special  choice;  that  is,  the  public  domain  is  by  no 
means  open  to  all  comers  on  equal  terms.  Public  con- 
cessions worth  millions  of  dollars — to  use  the  water  of 
a river  for  irrigation  purposes,  or  for  power,  to  engage 
in  this  or  that  monopoly,  have  been  given  away,  but  not 
indiscriminately.  These  things  are  the  coin  with  which 
political  support  is  bought  and  as  such  are  grafts,  pure 
and  simple. 

Public  action  of  any  sort  is  never  taken  for  the  sake 
of  improving  the  condition  of  the  common  people.  It  is 
taken  with  a view  to  making  the  government  more 
secure  in  its  position.  Mexico  is  a land  of  special  privi- 
leges extraordinary,  though  frequently  special  privi- 
leges are  provided  for  in  the  name  of  the  common  people. 
An  instance  is  that  of  the  “Agricultural  Bank,”  which 
was  created  in  1908.  To  read  the  press  reports  concern- 
ing the  purpose  of  this  bank  one  would  imagine  that 
the  government  had  launched  into  a gigantic  and  benevo- 
lent scheme  to  re-establish  its  expropriated  people  in 
agriculture.  The  purpose,  it  was  said,  was  to  loan  money 
to  needy  farmers.  But  nothing  could  be  farther  from 
the  truth,  for  the  purpose  is  to  help  out  the  rich  farmer, 
and  only  the  richest  in  the  land.  The  bank  has  now 
been  loaning  money  for  two  years,  but  so  far  not  a 
single  case  has  been  recorded  in  which  aid  was  given 


134 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


to  help  a farm  that  comprised  less  than  thousands  of 
acres.  Millions  have  been  loaned  on  private  irrigation 
projects,  but  never  in  lumps  of  less  than  several  tens  of 
thousands.  In  the  United  States  the  farmer  class  is  an 
humble  class  indeed ; in  Mexico  the  typical  farmer  is  the 
king  of  millionaires,  a little  potentate.  In  Mexico,  be- 
cause of  the  special  privileges  given  by  the  government, 
medievalism  still  prevails  outside  the  cities.  The  barons 
are  richer  and  more  powerful  than  were  the  landed 
aristocrats  before  the  French  Revolution,  and  the  canaille 
poorer,  more  miserable. 

And  the  special  financial  privileges  centering  in  the 
cities  are  no  less  remarkable  than  the  special  privileges 
given  to  the  exploiters  of  the  hacienda  slave.  There  is 
a financial  ring  consisting  of  members  of  the  Diaz  ma- 
chine and  their  close  associates,  who  pluck  all  the  finan- 
cial plums  of  the  “republic,”  who  get  the  contracts,  the 
franchises  and  the  concessions,  and  whom  the  large  aggre- 
gations of  foreign  capital  which  secure  a footing  in  the 
country  find  it  necessary  to  take  as  coupon-clipping  part- 
ners. The  “Banco  Nacional,”  an  institution  having  some 
fifty-four  branches  and  which  has  been  compared  flat- 
teringly to  the  Bank  of  England,  is  the  special  financial 
vehicle  of  the  government  camarilla.  It  monopolizes  the 
major  portion  of  the  banking  business  of  the  country  and 
is  a convenient  cloak  for  the  larger  grafts,  such  as  the 
railway  merger,  the  true  significance  of  which  I shall 
present  in  a future  chapter. 

Diaz  encourages  foreign  capital,  for  foreign  capital 
means  the  support  of  foreign  governments.  American 
capital  has  a smoother  time  with  Diaz  than  it  has  even 
with  its  own  government,  which  is  very  fine  from  the 
point  of  view  of  American  capital,  but  not  so  good  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  Mexican  people.  Diaz  has  even 


THE  DIAZ  SYSTEM 


135 


entered  into  direct  partnership  with  certain  aggrega- 
tions of  foreign  capital,  granting  these  aggregations 
special  privileges  in  some  lines  which  he  has  refused  to 
his  own  millionaires.  These  foreign  partnerships  which 
Diaz  has  formed  has  made  his  government  international 
insofar  as  the  props  which  support  his  system  are  con- 
cerned. The  certainty  of  foreign  intervention  in  his 
favor  has  been  one  of  the  powerful  forces  which  have 
prevented  the  Mexican  people  from  using  arms  to  remove 
a ruler  who  imposed  himself  upon  them  by  the  use  of 
arms. 

When  I come  to  deal  with  the  American  partners  of 
Diaz  I mention  those  of  no  other  nationality  in  the  same 
breath,  but  it  will  be  well  to  bear  in  mind  that  England, 
especially,  is  nearly  as  heavily  as  interested  in  Mexico  as 
is  the  United  States.  While  this  country  has  $900,000,000 
(these  are  the  figures  given  by  Consul  General  Shanklin 
about  the  first  of  the  year  1910)  invested  in  Mexico, 
England  (according  to  the  South  American  Journal)  has 
$750,000,000.  However,  these  figures  by  no  means  repre- 
sent the  ratio  between  the  degree  of  political  influence 
exerted  by  the  two  countries.  There  the  United  States 
bests  all  the  other  countries  combined. 

Yet  there  are  two  English  corporations  so  closely  iden- 
tified with  the  Mexican  financial  ring  as  to  deserve  special 
mention.  They  are  the  combination  represented  by  Dr. 
F.  S.  Pearson,  of  Canada  and  London,  and  the  other  cor- 
poration distinct  from  the  first,  S.  Pearson  & Son,  Lim- 
ited. Of  Dr.  F.  S.  Pearson  it  is  boasted  that  he  can  get 
any  concession  that  he  wants  in  Mexico,  barring  alone 
such  a one  as  would  antagonize  other  foreign  interests 
equally  powerful.  Dr.  Pearson  owns  the  electric  railway 
system  of  the  Federal  District  and  furnishes  the  vast 
quantity  of  electric  light  and  power  used  in  that  political 


136 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


division  of  Mexico.  Among  other  things,  he  is  also  a 
strong  power  along  the  American  border,  where  he  and 
his  associates  own  the  Mexico  Northwestern  Railway  and 
several  smaller  lines,  as  well  as  vast  tracts  of  lands  and 
huge  lumber  interests.  In  Chihuahua  he  is  establishing 
a large  steel  plant  and  in  El  Paso,  just  across  the  line, 
he  is  building  a half  million  dollar  sawmill  as  a part  of  his 
Mexican  projects. 

S.  Pearson  & Son  have  been  given  so  many  valuable 
concessions  in  Mexico  that  they  were  responsible  for  the 
invention  of  the  term,  “the  partners  of  Diaz.”  Through 
concessions  given  them  by  the  government  they  are  in 
possession  of  vast  oil  lands,  most  of  which  are  unex- 
ploited, yet  so  many  of  which  are  producing  that  the  com- 
pany recently  gave  out  a statement  that  it  would  hereafter 
be  in  a position  to  supply  its  entire  trade  with  Mexican 
oil.  Its  distributing  company,  “El  Aguila,”  contains  on 
its  directorate  a number  of  Diaz’s  closest  friends.  Pear- 
son & Son,  also,  have  monopolized  the  contracts  for  deep- 
ening and  improving  the  harbors  of  Mexico.  Since  their 
advent  into  the  country  some  fourteen  years  ago  the 
government  treasury  has  paid  to  this  concern  $200,000,000 
for  work  on  the  harbors  of  Salina  Cruz  and  Coatza- 
coalcos,  and  the  Isthmus  railroad.  This  amount,  a 
government  engineer  told  me  personally,  is  an  even  double 
the  price  that  should  have  been  paid  for  the  work.  In  1908 
Diaz’s  congress  appropriated  $50,000,000  to  install  an 
extensive  irrigation  project  on  the  Rio  Nasus,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  cotton  barons  of  the  Laguna  district  in  the 
State  of  Durango.  Immediately  afterwards  the  Pearson 
company  organized  a subsidiary  irrigation  concern  with 
a capital  of  one  million.  The  new  company  drew  up  plans 
for  a dam,  whereupon  the  Diaz  congress  promptly  voted 


THE  DIAZ  SVSTEM 


137 


$10,000,000  out  of  the  $50,000,000  to  be  paid  to  the 
Pearsons  for  their  dam. 

In  this  chapter  I have  attempted  to  give  the  reader  an 
idea  of  the  means  which  General  Diaz  employed  to 
attract  support  to  his  government.  To  sum  up,  by  means 
of  a careful  placing  of  public  offices,  public  contracts  and 
special  privileges  of  multitudinous  sorts,  Diaz  absorbed 
all  of  the  more  powerful  men  and  interests  within  his 
sphere  and  made  them  a part  of  his  machine.  Gradually 
the  country  passed  into  the  hands  of  his  officeholders, 
their  friends,  and  foreigners.  And  for  this  the  people 
paid,  not  only  with  their  lands,  but  with  their  flesh  and 
blood.  They  paid  in  peonage  and  slavery.  For  this  they 
forfeited  liberty,  democracy  and  the  blessings  of  progress. 
And  because  human  beings  do  not  forfeit  these  things 
without  a struggle,  there  was  necessarily  another  function 
of  the  Diaz  machine  than  that  of  distributing  gifts,  an- 
other material  that  wrent  into  the  structure  of  his  govern- 
ment than  favors.  Privilege — repression;  they  go  hand 
in  hand.  In  this  chapter  I have  attempted  to  sketch  a 
picture  of  the  privilege  attached  to  the  Diaz  system ; in 
the  succeeding  chapter  I shall  attempt  to  define  its  ele- 
ments of  repression. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE 

Americans  launching  upon  business  in  Mexico  are 
usually  given  about  the  same  treatment  at  the  hands  of 
local  authorities  as  they  have  been  used  to  at  home.  The 
readier  hand  for  graft  is  more  than  overbalanced  by  the 
easier  plucking  of  the  special  privilege  plum.  Sometimes 
an  American  falls  into  disfavor  and  is  cautiously  perse- 
cuted, but  it  is  seldom.  And  if  he  is  there  to  get  rich 
quickly,  as  is  usual,  he  judges  the  Mexican  government 
by  the  aid  it  gives  to  his  ambition.  To  him  the  system  of 
Diaz  is  the  wisest,  most  modern  and  most  beneficent  on 
the  face  of  the  earth. 

To  be  wholly  fair  to  Diaz  and  his  system,  I must  con- 
fess that  I am  not  judging  Mexico  from  the  viewpoint  of 
the  American  investor.  I am  estimating  it  from  its  effects 
upon  the  mass  of  Mexicans  generally,  who,  in  the  end, 
must  surely  determine  the  destiny  of  Mexico.  From  the 
viewpoint  of  the  common  Mexican  the  government  is 
wholly  the  opposite  of  beneficent;  it  is  a slave-driver,  a 
thief,  a murderer;  it  has  neither  justice  nor  mercy — 
nothing  but  exploitation. 

In  order  to  impose  his  rule  upon  an  unwilling  people 
General  Diaz  found  it  necessary  not  only  to  reward  the 
powerful  of  his  country  and  to  be  free  and  easy  with  the 
foreigner,  but  also  to  strip  the  people  of  their  liberties  to 
the  point  of  nakedness.  He  took  away  from  them  all 
governmental  powers,  rights  and  securities,  and  all  powers 


138 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  139 

to  demand  the  return  of  these  things.  Why  do  nations 
universally  demand  a popular  form  of  government? 
Never  until  I saw  Mexico  did  I appreciate  to  its  full  the 
reason  why.  The  answer  is  that  life  under  any  other 
system  is  intolerable.  The  common  interests  can  be  con- 
served only  by  the  common  voice.  Governments  by  indi- 
viduals not  responsible  to  the  mass  invariably  result  in 
robbery  of  the  mass  and  debasement  of  the  nation.  The 
upbuilding  of  any  people  requires  certain  social  guar- 
antees which  are  not  possible  except  under  a government 
in  which  considerable  numbers  take  part. 

When  General  Diaz  led  his  army  into  the  Mexican 
capital  back  in  1876  he  declared  himself  provisional  presi- 
dent. Shortly  afterwards  he  held  a pretended  election 
and  declared  himself  constitutional  president.  By  a “pre- 
tended election”  I mean  that  he  put  his  soldiers  in  posses- 
sion of  the  polls  and  prevented,  by  intimidation,  anyone 
from  appearing  as  a candidate  against  him.  Thus  was  he 
“elected”  unanimously.  And,  except  for  one  term,  when 
he  voluntarily  relinquished  the  office,  he  has  continued  to 
elect  himself  unanimously  in  much  the  same  way. 

I do  not  need  to  dwell  on  the  election  farces  of  Mexico, 
since  the  warmest  flatterers  of  Diaz  admit  that  Mexico 
has  not  had  one  real  election  during  the  past  thirty-four 
years.  But  to  those  who  desire  some  statement  of  the 
matter  it  will  only  be  necessary  to  point  out  the  results 
of  the  Mexican  “elections.”  Can  anyone  imagine  a nation 
of  some  15,000,000  with,  say  3,000,000  persons  of  voting 
age,  all  preferring  the  same  man  for  their  chief  executive, 
not  only  once,  but  year  after  year  and  decade  after 
decade?  Just  picture  such  a condition  obtaining  in  the 
United  States,  for  example.  Could  anyone  imagine  Mr. 
Taft  being  re-elected  by  a unanimous  vote?  Mr.  Roose- 
velt was  undoubtedly  the  most  popular  president  this 


140 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


country  ever  had.  Could  anybody  imagine  Mr.  Roose- 
velt being  re-elected  by  a unanimous  vote?  Moreover, 
could  anyone  imagine  a country  of  15,000,000  souls  in 
which  ambition  never  stirred  the  heart  of  more  than  one 
individual  with  the  desire  to  stand  before  the  people  as  a 
candidate  for  the  highest  office  in  the  nation  ? 

And  yet  this  is  exactly  the  condition  we  find  in  Mexico. 
Eight  times  Don  Porfirio  has  been  seated  as  “president.” 
Eight  times  he  has  been  elected  “unanimously.”  Never 
has  an  opponent  stood  against  him  at  the  polls. 

And  the  story  of  the  presidential  succession  is  repeated 
in  the  states.  Re-election  without  contest  is  a rule  which 
has  seen  exceedingly  few  exceptions.  The  governor  of 
the  state  holds  office  for  life,  unless  for  some  reason  he 
loses  favor  with  Don  Porfirio,  which  is  seldom.  A mem- 
ber of  the  Mexican  upper  class  once  put  the  situation  to 
me  quite  aptly.  Said  he : “Death  is  the  only  anti-re-elec- 
tionist  in  Mexico.”  The  chief  reason  why  the  states  are 
not  governed  by  men  who  have  been  in  office  for  thirty- 
four  years  is  because  those  who  were  first  put  in  have 
died  and  it  has  become  necessary  to  fill  their  places  with 
others.  As  it  is.  Colonel  Prospero  Cahuantzi  has  ruled 
the  State  of  Tlaxcala  for  the  whole  Porfirian  period. 
General  Aristeo  Mercado  has  ruled  the  State  of  Michoa- 
can  for  over  twenty-five  years.  Teodoro  Dehesa  has 
governed  the  State  of  Veracruz  for  twenty-five  years. 
When  deposed  in  1909,  General  Bernardo  Reyes  had  gov- 
erned the  State  of  Nuevo  Leon  for  nearly  twenty-five 
years.  General  Francisco  Canedo,  General  Abraham 
Bandala  and  Pedro  Rodriguez  ruled  the  States  of  Sinaloa, 
Tabasco  and  Hidalgo,  respectively,  for  over  twenty  years. 
General  Luis  Terrazas  was  governor  of  Chihuahua  for 
over  twenty  years,  while  Governors  Martinez,  Cardenas 
and  Obregon  Gonzalez  ruled  the  States  of  Puebla,  Coa- 


READY  FOR  THE  EXECUTION 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  141 

huila  and  Guanajuato,  respectively,  for  about  fifteen 
years. 

Diaz’s  system  of  government  is  very  simple,  once  it 
is  explained.  The  president,  the  governor,  the  jefe 
politico — these  three  names  represent  all  the  power  in  the 
country.  In  Mexico  there  is  but  one  governmental  power 
— the  executive.  The  other  two  departments  exist  in 
name  only.  Not  one  elective  office  remains  in  the  country. 
All  are  appointive.  And  through  the  appointive  power 
the  three  executives  mentioned  control  the  entire  situa- 
tion. The  word  of  these  three  officials  in  his  particular 
sphere — the  president  in  the  twenty-seven  states  and  two 
territories,  the  governor  in  his  state,  the  jcfe  politico  in 
his  district — is  the  law  of  the  land.  Not  one  of  the  three 
is  required  to  answer  to  the  people  for  his  acts.  The 
governor  must  answer  to  the  president  and  the  jefe 
politico  to  the  governor  and  the  president.  It  is  the  most 
perfect  one-man  system  on  earth. 

Of  course  such  conditions  were  not  established  with- 
out a struggle.  Neither  can  they  be  maintained  without 
continued  struggle.  Autocracy  cannot  be  created  by  fiat. 
Slavery  cannot  exist  merely  by  decree  of  a ruler.  There 
must  be  an  organization  and  a policy  to  compel  such 
things.  There  must  be  a military  organization  armed  to 
the  teeth.  There  must  be  police  and  police  spies.  There 
must  be  expropriations  and  imprisonments  for  political 
purposes.  And  there  must  be  murder — murder  all  the 
time.  No  autocracy  can  exist  without  murder.  Autoc- 
racy feeds  upon  murder.  It  has  never  been  otherwise, 
and,  thanks  to  human  nature  as  we  find  it,  never  can  be. 

The  succeeding  two  chapters  are  to  be  devoted  to 
sketching  the  extirpation  of  political  movements  having 
for  their  purpose  the  re-establishment  of  republican  insti- 
tutions in  Mexico.  But  first  it  seems  well  to  define  the 


142 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


public  powers  and  institutions  which  are  employed  in  this 
unholy  work.  These  consist  of : 

The  army. 

The  rurale  forces. 

The  police. 

The  acordada. 

The  Ley  Fug  a. 

Quintana  Roo,  the  “Mexican  Siberia.” 

The  prisons. 

The  jcfcs  politicos. 

In  a published  interview  issued  during  the  Liberal  re- 
bellion in  1908,  Vice-President  Corral  announced  that  the 
government  had  more  than  50,000  soldiers  who  were 
ready  to  take  the  field  at  an  hour’s  notice.  In  these 
figures  he  must  have  included  the  rurale  forces,  for  em- 
ployes of  the  War  Department  have  since  assured  me 
that  the  regular  army  numbered  less,  almost  an  exact 
40,000,  in  fact.  On  paper  the  Mexican  army  is,  then, 
smaller  than  ours,  but,  according  to  estimates  of  the 
actual  size  of  our  army  published  by  American  experts 
during  the  past  three  years,  it  is  larger,  and  in  propor- 
tion to  the  population  it  is  at  least  five  times  larger. 
General  Diaz’s  excuse  for  the  maintenance  of  such  a 
large  army  has  always  been  a hint  that  the  country  might 
at  any  time  find  itself  in  danger  of  invasion  by  the 
United  States.  That  his  purpose  was  not  so  much  to  pre- 
pare against  invasion  as  against  internal  revolution  is 
evidenced  by  the  fact  that,  instead  of  fortifying  the  bor- 
der, he  fortified  inland  cities.  Moreover,  he  keeps  the 
bulk  of  the  army  concentrated  near  the  large  centers  of 
population  and  his  best  and  most  extensive  equipment 
consists  of  mountain  batteries,  recognized  as  specially 
well  adapted  to  internal  warfare. 

Mexico  is  actually  policed  by  the  army  and  to  this  end 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  143 

the  country  is  divided  into  ten  military  zones,  three 
commanderies  and  fourteen  jefaturas.  One  sees  soldiers 
everywhere.  There  is  not  an  important  city  in  the  coun- 
try that  has  not  its  army  barracks,  and  the  barracks  are 
situated  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  where  they  are  always 
ready.  The  discipline  of  war  is  maintained  at  all  times, 
the  presence  of  the  soldiers  and  their  constant  drilling 
are  a perpetual  threat  to  the  people.  And  they  are  used 
upon  the  people  often  enough  to  keep  always  fresh  in 
the  memories  of  the  people  the  fact  that  the  threat  is  not 
an  empty  one.  Such  readiness  for  war  as  is  maintained 
on  the  part  of  the  Mexican  troops  is  not  known  in  this 
country.  There  is  no  red  tape  when  it  comes  to  fighting 
and  troops  arrive  at  a scene  of  trouble  in  an  incredibly 
short  time.  As  one  example,  at  the  time  of  the  Liberal 
rebellion  in  the  fall  of  1906  the  Liberals  attacked  the  city 
of  Acayucan,  Veracruz.  Despite  the  fact  that  the  city  is 
situated  in  a comparatively  isolated  part  of  the  tropics, 
the  government  concentrated  4,000  soldiers  on  the  town 
within  twenty-four  hours  after  the  first  alarm. 

As  an  instrument  of  repression,  the  Mexican  army  is 
employed  effectively  in  two  separate  and  distinct  ways. 
It  is  an  engine  of  massacre  and  it  is  an  exile  institution,  a 
jail-house,  a concentration  camp  for  the  politically  un- 
desirable. 

This  second  function  of  the  army  abides  in  the  fact 
that  more  than  95  per  cent  of  the  enlisted  men  are 
drafted,  and  drafted  for  the  particular  reason  that  they 
are  politically  undesirable  citizens,  or  that  they  are  good 
subjects  for  graft  on  the  part  of  the  drafter.  The 
drafter  is  usually  the  jefe  politico.  A judge — at  the 
instance  of  the  executive  authority — sometimes  sentences 
a culprit  to  the  army  instead  of  to  jail,  and  a governor — 
as  at  Cananea — sometimes  personally  superintends  the 


144 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


placing  of  considerable  bodies  of  men  in  the  army,  but 
as  a rule  the  jcfe  politico  is  the  drafting  officer  and  upon 
him  there  is  no  check.  He  has  no  system  other  than  to 
follow  his  own  sweet  will.  He  drafts  laborers  who  dare 
to  strike,  editors  who  criticize  the  government,  farmers 
who  resist  exorbitant  taxation,  and  any  other  ordinary 
citizens  who  may  present  opportunities  for  graft. 

As  a dumping  ground  for  the  politically  undesirable, 
the  conditions  within  the  army  are  ideal,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  government.  The  men  are  prisoners 
rather  than  soldiers  and  they  are  treated  as  such.  For 
this  reason  the  Mexican  army  has  gained  the  title  of 
“The  National  Chain-gang.”  While  in  Diaz-land  I 
visited  a number  of  army  barracks.  The  barracks  at  Rio 
Blanco  are  typical.  Here,  ever  since  the  Rio  Blanco 
strike,  600  soldiers  and  200  mralcs  have  been  quartered 
within  the  shadow  of  the  great  mill,  in  barracks  and  upon 
ground  furnished  by  the  company,  an  hourly  menace  to 
the  miserably  exploited  workers  there. 

At  Rio  Blanco  a little  captain  showed  us  about — De 
Lara  and  I — at  the  behest  of  an  officer  of  the  manufac- 
turing company.  El  Scnor  Capitan  informed  us  that  the 
pay  of  the  Mexican  soldier,  with  rations,  is  $1.90  per 
month  in  American  money  and  that  the  soldier  is  always 
expected  to  spend  the  major  portion  of  this  for  extra 
food,  as  the  food  furnished  is  of  too  small  a variety  and 
too  scarce  a quantity  to  satisfy  any  human  being.  The 
captain  confirmed  the  reports  that  I had  often  heard  to 
the  effect  that  the  soldier,  in  all  his  five  years  service, 
never  has  an  hour  to  himself  away  from  the  eye  of  an 
officer,  that  he  is  as  much  a prisoner  in  his  barracks  as 
is  the  life-termer  in  a penitentiary. 

The  proportion  of  involuntary  soldiers  the  captain  esti- 
mated at  98  per  cent.  Often,  said  he,  the  soldiers,  crazy 


MEXICAN  CAVALRY:  YOU  SEE  SOLDIERS  EVERYWHERE  IN  DIAZ-LAND 


MEXICAN  COUNTRY  JAIL 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  145 

for  freedom,  break  and  run  like  escaping  convicts.  And 
they  are  hunted  down  like  convicts. 

But  the  thing  that  struck  me  most  forcibly  during  my 
visit  was  that  the  little  captain,  in  the  hearing  of  half  a 
company  of  men,  told  us  that  the  soldiers  were  of  the 
lowest  class  of  Mexicans,  were  good  for  nothing,  a bad 
lot,  etc.,  apologizing  thus  in  order  to  make  us  understand 
that  in  time  of  war  the  quality  of  the  army  would  be 
much  improved.  The  soldiers  heard  and  failed  to  look 
pleasant  and  I decided  right  there  that  the  loyalty  of  the 
Mexican  army  stands  upon  a very  flimsy  basis — merely 
fear  of  death — and  that  in  case  of  any  future  rebellion 
against  the  dictatorship  the  army  can  be  counted  upon  to 
revolt  in  a body  as  soon  as  the  rebellion  develops  any 
appreciable  strength — that  is,  enough  strength  to  afford 
the  deserters  a fair  chance  for  their  lives. 

The  territory  of  Quintana  Roo  has  been  characterized 
as  one  of  the  “Siberias  of  Mexico,”  from  the  fact  that 
to  it,  as  convict-soldiers,  are  consigned  thousands  of 
political  suspects  and  labor  agitators.  Sent  there  osten- 
sibly to  fight  the  Maya  Indians,  they  are  treated  so 
harshly  that  probably  not  one  per  cent  of  them  ever  see 
their  homes  again.  I did  not  succeed  in  penetrating  per- 
sonally to  Quintana  Roo,  but  I have  heard  accounts  of 
it  from  so  many  authentic  sources  that  I have  no  doubt 
whatever  that  my  estimate  of  it  is  correct.  One  of  these 
sources  of  information  I shall  quote  at  some  length,  a 
distinguished  government  physician  who  for  three  years 
was  Chief  of  Sanitary  Service  with  the  army  in  the 
territory. 

“For  thirty  years,”  said  this  man,  “there  has  been  an 
army  of  from  2,000  to  3,000  men  constantly  in  the  field 
against  the  Maya  Indians.  These  soldiers  are  made  up 
almost  entirely  of  political  suspects  and  even  many  of 


146 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  officers  are  men  who  have  been  detailed  to  duty  in 
the  territory  only  because  the  government  has  some  rea- 
son for  wanting  to  get  rid  of  them.  Quintana  Roo  is 
the  most  unhealthy  part  of  Mexico,  but  the  soldiers  die 
from  five  to  ten  times  as  fast  as  necessary  because  of  the 
grafting  of  their  chief,  General  Bravo.  During  the  first 
two  years  I was  there  the  death  rate  was  100  per  cent 
a year,  for  in  that  period  more  than  4,000  soldiers  died  of 
starvation  and  sickness  induced  by  starvation ! 

“For  month  after  month,”  said  this  physician,  “I  have 
known  the  deaths  to  average  thirty  a day.  For  every  sol- 
dier killed  by  a Maya  at  least  one  hundred  die  of  starva- 
tion or  sickness.  General  Bravo  steals  the  commissary 
money  and  starves  the  soldiers  with  the  connivance  of 
the  federal  government.  More  than  2,000  have  died  of 
acute  starvation  alone  during  the  past  seven  years,  since 
General  Bravo  took  command.  Not  only  that,  but  Bravo 
steals  the  cremation  money.  The  soil  of  the  peninsula, 
you  must  know,  is  rocky,  the  hard-pan  is  close  to  the 
surface  and  it  is  not  practical  to  bury  the  dead.  The  gov- 
ernment appropriates  money  to  buy  oil  for  cremation,  but 
Bravo  steals  this  money  and  leaves  the  bodies  to  lie  in  the 
sun  and  rot  away!” 

Because  it  would  result  in  his  imprisonment  I cannot 
publish  the  name  of  this  authority.  I feel  perfectly  free, 
however,  to  name  Colonel  Francisco  B.  Cruz,  chief  de- 
porter of  Yaquis.  Colonel  Cruz  told  me  that  in  three 
years  General  Bravo  had  saved  $10,000,000  from  money 
grafted  off  the  army  in  Quintana  Roo.  The  fact  that 
nearly  all  the  deaths  of  soldiers  was  the  result  of  starva- 
tion was  proven  in  the  year  1902  to  1903,  when  General 
Bravo  took  a vacation  and  General  Vega  had  command. 
General  Vega  stole  no  food  or  medicine  or  oil  money 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  147 

and  as  a result  he  reduced  the  number  of  deaths  from 
thirty  a day  to  an  average  of  three  a day. 

“In  its  campaign  against  the  Mayas,”  the  former  Sani- 
tary Chief  told  me,  “the  government  built  a railroad 
sixty  metres  long.  This  railroad  is  known  among  the 
soldiers  as  ‘The  Alley  of  Death,’  for  it  is  said  that  every 
tie  cost  five  lives  in  the  building.  When  this  road  was 
built  many  prisoners  were  taken  from  the  military  prison 
of  San  Juan  de  Ulua  to  do  the  work.  To  encourage 
them  to  toil  all  were  promised  that  their  sentences  would 
be  cut  in  half,  but  after  a few  weeks  in  the  hands  of 
Bravo  the  majority  begged — but  in  vain — to  be  returned 
to  Ulua,  which  is  the  most  dreaded  of  all  houses  of  incar- 
ceration in  Mexico.  These  unfortunate  prisoners  were 
starved  and  when  they  staggered  from  weakness  they 
were  beaten,  some  being  beaten  to  death.  Some  of  them 
committed  suicide  at  the  first  opportunity,  as  did  many 
of  the  soldiers — fifty  of  them,  while  I was  there.” 

Fancy  a soldier  committing  suicide!  Fancy  the  cruel 
conditions  that  would  lead  fifty  soldiers  among  2,000  to 
commit  suicide  in  the  space  of  three  years ! 

As  to  the  graft  features  of  the  army  drafting  system, 
as  I have  suggested,  the  jefe  politico  selects  the  names 
in  his  own  way  in  the  privacy  of  his  own  office  and  no 
one  may  question  his  methods.  Wherefore  he  waxes 
rich.  Since — allowing  for  a high  death  rate — some 

10,000*  men  are  drafted  every  year,  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  graft  possibilities  of  the  system  are  enormous.  The 
horror  of  the  army  is  used  by  the  jcfc  to  squeeze  money 
out  of  wage-workers  and  small  property-holders.  Unless 
the  victim  is  drafted  for  political  reasons,  the  system 
permits  the  drafted  person  to  buy  another  to  take  his 
place — provided  the  drafting  officer  is  willing.  This 
option  on  the  part  of  the  jcfe  is  used  as  a great  money- 


148 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


getter,  since  the  jefe  is  never  willing  unless  the  victim 
buys  the  jefe  as  well  as  the  substitute.  Usually  it  is 
not  necessary  to  buy  the  substitute,  but  only  the  jefe 
politico.  In  some  districts  it  is  said  to  be  a regular  prac- 
tice to  keep  tab  on  the  higher-paid  class  of  wage-laborers 
and  when  they  are  paid  after  a long  job,  to  drag  them  to 
jail  and  tell  them  that  they  have  been  drafted,  then,  a 
day  or  two  later,  to  send  word  that  $100,  more  or  less, 
has  been  fixed  as  the  price  of  their  liberty.  I was  told 
of  an  instance  in  which  a carpenter  was  drafted  in  this 
way  five  times  in  the  space  of  three  years.  Four  times 
he  parted  with  his  money,  sums  ranging  from  $50  to 
$100,  but  the  fifth  time  he  lost  courage  and  permitted 
himself  to  be  led  away  to  the  barracks. 

The  rurales  are  mounted  police  usually  selected  from 
the  criminal  classes,  well  equipped  and  comparatively 
well  paid,  whose  energies  have  been  turned  to  robbing 
and  killing  for  the  government.  There  are  federal 
rurales  and  state  rurales,  the  total  of  the  two  running 
somewhere  between  7,000  and  9,000.  They  are  divided 
among  the  various  states  in  about  an  equal  propor- 
tion to  the  population,  but  are  utilized  most  in  the  rural 
districts.  The  rurales  are  the  special  rough  riders  of 
the  jefe  politicos  and  they  are  given  almost  unlimited 
powers  to  kill  at  their  own  discretion.  Investigation  of 
wanton  killings  by  rurales  working  singly  or  in  squads 
is  almost  never  made  and  the  victim  must  stand  well 
indeed  with  the  government  before  punishment  is  meted 
out  to  the  murderer. 

In  Mexico  it  is  a small  town  that  has  no  soldiers  or 
rurales  and  a smaller  town  that  has  no  regular 
gendarmes.  The  City  of  Mexico  has  over  2,000,  or  twice 
as  many  as  New  York  in  comparison  to  its  size,  and 
the  other  municipalities  are  equipped  in  proportion.  At 


YAQLIS  HANGED  IN  SONORA 


MEXICAN  RU RALES 


/ 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  149 

night  the  gendarmes  have  little  red  lanterns  which  they 
set  in  the  middle  of  the  streets  and  hover  near.  One 
sees  these  lanterns,  one  at  each  corner,  twinkling  down 
the  entire  length  of  the  principal  streets.  There  is  a 
system  of  lantern  signals  and  when  one  lamp  begins  to 
swing  the  signal  is  carried  along  and  in  a trice  every 
gendarme  on  the  street  knows  what  has  happened. 

While  the  “plain  clothes”  department  of  the  Mexican 
police  is  a comparatively  insignificant  affair,  there  ex- 
ists, outside  of  and  beyond  it,  a system  of  secret  police 
on  a very  extensive  scale.  An  American  newspaper- 
man employed  on  an  English  daily  of  the  capital  once 
told  me:  “There  are  twice  as  many  secret  police  as  reg- 
ular police.  You  see  a uniformed  policeman  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  street.  That  is  all  you  see,  or  at 
least  all  you  notice.  But  leaning  against  the  wall  of 
that  alley  entrance  is  a man  whom  you  take  to  be  a 
loafer ; over  on  the  other  side  lounges  a man  whom  you 
think  is  a peon.  Just  start  something  and  then  try  to 
get  away.  Both  of  those  men  will  be  after  you.  There 
is  no  getting  away  in  Mexico;  every  alley  is  guarded 
as  well  as  every  street! 

“Why,”  said  he,  “they  know  your  business  as  well  as 
you  do  yourself.  They  talk  with  you  and  you  never  sus- 
pect. When  you  cross  the  border  they  take  your  name 
and  business  and  address,  and  before  you’ve  reached  the 
capital  they  know  whether  you’ve  told  the  truth  or  not. 
They  know  what  you’re  here  for  and  have  decided  what 
they’re  going  to  do  about  it.” 

Perhaps  this  man  overstated  the  case — the  exact  truth 
of  these  matters  is  hard  to  get  at — but  I know  that  it 
is  impossible  to  convince  the  average  Mexican  that  the 
secret  police  system  of  his  country  is  not  a colossal  in- 
stitution. 


150 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  acordada  is  an  organization  of  secret  assassins, 
a sort  of  secret  police,  attached  to  the  government  of 
each  of  the  Mexican  states.  It  consists  of  a jcfe  de 
acordada  and  anywhere  from  a half  dozen  to  a half  hun- 
dred subordinates.  Personal  enemies  of  the  governor 
or  of  the  jcfcs  politicos,  political  suspects  and  highway- 
men or  others  suspected  of  crime  but  against  whom 
there  is  no  evidence,  are  frequently  put  out  of  the  way 
by  the  acordada.  The  names  of  the  marked  men  are 
furnished  by  the  officials  and  the  members  of  the  so- 
ciety are  sent  about  the  state  with  orders  to  kill  quietly 
and  without  noise.  Two  notable  cases  where  the  acordada 
are  reported  as  having  killed  extensively  are  those  of 
the  days  following  the  strikes  at  Cananea  and  Rio 
Blanco.  Personally  I am  acquainted  with  a Mexican 
whose  brother  was  killed  by  the  acordada  for  doing  no 
more  than  shouting  “Viva  Ricardo  Flores  Magon.”  I 
know  also  of  a son  of  a general  high  up  in  the  councils  of 
the  Mexican  government  who  became  a sub-jcfe  de 
acordada  in  the  state  of  Coahuila.  He  was  a wild  young 
fellow  who  had  been  put  out  of  the  army  for  acts  of  in- 
subordination toward  a superior  officer.  But  his  father 
was  a friend  of  Diaz  and  Diaz  himself  appointed  the 
youth  to  the  acordada  job,  which  paid  a salary  of  three 
hundred  pesos  a month.  This  man  was  given  two  assist- 
ants and  was  sent  out  with  orders  to  “kill  quietly  along 
the  border”  any  and  all  persons  whom  he  might  suspect 
of  connection  with  the  Liberal  Party.  No  check  what- 
ever was  placed  upon  him.  He  was  to  kill  at  his  own 
discretion. 

The  acordada  at  times  work  extensively  even  in  the 
Mexican  capital,  which  more  nearly  approaches  the 
modern  in  its  police  methods  than  probably  any  other 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  151 

city  in  the  country.  Before  the  Liberal  rebellion  of  1906 
the  government,  through  spies,  secured  the  detailed 
plans  of  the  rebels,  as  well  as  the  names  of  hundreds 
of  the  participants,  and  a large  number  of  these  were 
killed.  What  was  done  by  the  acordada  in  Mexico  City 
at  that  time  may  be  guessed  by  a statement  made  to  me 
by  a well  known  newspaperman  of  Mexico  City.  Said 
he:  "I  have  it  from  the  most  reliable  source  that  dur- 
ing the  week  preceding  September  16  not  less  than  2,000 
suspects  were  made  away  with  quietly  by  the  secret  po- 
lice and  special  deputies — the  acordada — so  quietly  that 
not  a line  in  regard  to  it  has  ever  been  published  to  this 
day !” 

I hesitate  to  print  this  statement  because  it  is  too  co- 
lossal for  me  to  believe,  and  I do  not  expect  the  reader 
to  believe  it.  But  I have  no  doubt  whatever  that  it 
was  partially  true ; that,  say,  several  score  were  killed 
at  this  time  and  in  this  way.  Liberals  whom  I have 
met  have  often  spoken  to  me  of  friends  who  had  sud- 
denly disappeared  and  never  been  heard  of  again  and 
many  of  these  were  supposed  to  have  been  done  away 
with  by  the  acordada. 

The  Ley  Fuga,  or  law  of  flight,  is  a method  of  killing 
resorted  to  by  all  branches  of  the  Mexican  police  power. 
It  was  originated  by  order  of  General  Diaz,  who  de- 
creed that  his  police  might  shoot  any  prisoners  who 
should  try  to  escape  while  under  guard.  While  it  may 
not  have  originated  for  that  purpose,  this  rule  came  to 
be  used  as  one  of  the  means  of  putting  to  death  persons 
against  whom  the  government  had  not  the  shadow  of 
another  excuse  for  killing.  The  marked  man  is  simply 
arrested,  taken  to  a lonely  spot  and  there  shot.  The 
matter  is  kept  quiet,  if  possible,  but  if  a situation  should 
arise  that  demands  an  explanation,  the  report  is  given 


152 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


out  that  the  victim  had  attempted  to  escape  and  had 
brought  his  fate  upon  himself.  Thus  it  is  freely  as- 
serted that  thousands  of  lives  have  been  taken  during 
the  past  thirty-four  years.  Today  instances  of  the  Ley 
Fug  a are  frequently  reported  in  the  Mexican  press. 

Many  political  outlaws  end  their  days  in  prison. 
Among  the  Mexican  prisons  there  are  two  whose  hor- 
rors stand  out  far  above  the  others — San  Juan  de  Ulus, 
and  Belem. 

During  both  of  my  trips  to  Mexico  made  during  1908 
and  1909  I put  forth  desperate  efforts  to  secure  admis- 
sion as  a visitor  to  Belem.  I saw  the  governor  of  the 
Federal  District;  I saw  the  American  ambassador;  I 
tried  to  enter  with  a prison  physician.  But  I was  never 
able  to  travel  farther  than  the  inner  door. 

Through  that  door  I could  see  into  the  central  court, 
where  ranged  hundreds  of  human  beings  made  wild 
beasts  by  the  treatment  they  received,  ragged,  filthy, 
starving,  wolfish  wrecks  of  men — a sight  calculated  to 
provoke  a raucous  laugh  at  the  solemn  declarations  of 
certain  individuals  that  Mexico  has  a civilized  govern- 
ment. 

But  farther  than  that  inner  court  I could  not  go.  I 
was  permitted  to  visit  other  prisons  in  Mexico,  but  not 
Belem.  When  I pressed  His  Excellency,  the  Governor, 
he  admitted  that  it  was  not  safe.  “On  account  of  the 
malas  condicioncs,  the  vile  conditions,”  he  said,  “it 
would  not  do.  Why,”  he  told  me,  “only  a short  time  ago 
the  vice-president,  Senor  Corral,  dared  to  make  a hurried 
visit  to  Belem.  He  contracted  typhus  and  nearly  died. 
You  cannot  go.” 

I told  him  that  I had  heard  of  Americans  being  per- 
mitted to  visit  Belem.  But  he  was  unable  to  remember. 
Doubtless  those  other  Americans  were  too  well  known 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  153 

— they  were  too  much  involved  in  Mexican  affairs — to 
leave  any  danger  of  their  coming  out  and  telling  the 
truth  of  what  they  saw.  My  credentials  were  not  sat- 
isfactory enough  to  permit  me  to  see  Belem. 

But  I know  Belem  fairly  well,  I think,  for  I have 
talked  with  persons  who  have  seen  Belem  as  prisoners 
and  come  out  of  its  horrors  alive.  Editors,  many  of 
them  were;  and  I have  talked  with  others — officials, 
prison  physicians,  and  I have  read  the  newspapers  of 
Mexico. 

Suffice  it,  however,  to  put  down  some  bare  and  naked 
facts.  Belem  is  the  general  prison  for  the  Federal  Dis- 
trict, which  comprises  the  Mexican  capital  and  some 
surrounding  suburbs,  approximating,  in  all,  a popula- 
tion of  600,000  people.  It  is  alike  city  jail,  county  jail 
and  penitentiary,  except  that  there  is  also  in  the  district 
another  penitentiary,  which  is  distinguished  from  Belem 
by  confining  within  its  w’alls  only  criminals  who  have 
been  sentenced  to  more  than  eight  years  confinement. 
The  penitentiary — which  is  so  designated — is  a modern 
institution,  decently  built  and  sewered.  The  prisoners 
are  few  and  they  are  fairly  wrell  fed.  Visitors  are  al- 
ways welcome  at  the  penitentiary,  for  it  is  principally 
for  show.  When  you  hear  a traveler  extolling  the 
prison  system  of  Mexico  put  it  down  that  he  was  con- 
ducted through  the  Federal  District  penitentiary  only 
— that  he  does  not  know  of  Belem. 

Belem  is  a musty  old  convent  which  was  turned  into 
a prison  by  the  simple  act  of  herding  some  thousands 
of  person  within  its  walls.  It  is  not  large  enough  de- 
cently to  house  five  hundred  inmates,  but  frequently 
it  houses  more  than  five  thousand.  These  five  thou- 
sand are  given  a daily  ration  of  biscuit  and  beans  in- 
sufficient in  quantity  to  keep  an  ordinary  person  alive  fof 


154 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


many  weeks.  The  insufficiency  of  this  ration  is  so  well 
realized  by  the  prison  officials  that  a regular  system  of 
feeding  from  the  outside  has  grown  up.  Daily  the 
friends  and  relatives  of  prisoners  bring  them  baskets  of 
food,  in  order  that  they  may  live  through  their  term  of 
confinement.  Of  course  it  is  a terrible  drain  on  the 
poor,  but  the  system  serves  its  purpose — except  for 
those  hundreds  of  unfortunates  who  have  no  friends  on 
the  outside.  These  starve  to  death  without  a finger  be- 
ing raised  to  help  them. 

“Within  three  days  after  entering  Belem,”  a Mexican 
prison  physician  informed  me,  “every  inmate  contracts 
a skin  disease,  a terrible  itch  which  sets  the  body  on  fire. 
This  disease  is  entirely  the  result  of  the  filthy  condi- 
tions of  the  place.  Every  year,”  he  continued,  “the 
prison  goes  through  an  epidemic  of  typhus,  which  kills 
an  average  of  at  least  ten  per  cent  of  the  inmates. 
Within  Belem  there  is  no  system  of  order  among  the 
prisoners.  The  weak  are  at  the  mercy  of  the  strong. 
Immediately  you  enter  as  a prisoner  you  are  set  upon 
by  a horde  of  half-crazed  men  who  tear  the  clothes 
from  your  back,  take  away  your  valuables,  if  you  have 
any,  and  usually  commit  nameless  crimes  upon  your 
person,  while  officials  of  the  prison  stand  grinning  by. 
The  only  way  to  save  yourself  in  Belem  is  to  turn  wild 
beast  like  the  rest,  and  even  then  you  must  be  strong — 
very  strong.” 

Should  I give  the  name  of  this  physician  every  official 
at  the  national  capital  would  instantly  recognize  him  as 
a man  of  high  standing  with  the  government.  I shall 
not  name  him  only  because  if  I did  he  also  would  go  to 
Belem  as  a prisoner.  Such  stories  as  his  I heard  from 
too  many  widely  different  sources  to  be  able  to  doubt 
them.  The  stories  of  the  Belem  epidemics  always  get 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  155 

more  or  less  into  the  Mexican  papers.  I remember  that 
during  my  first  visit  to  Mexico,  in  the  fall  of  1908,  the 
papers  reported  an  epidemic  of  typhus.  For  the  first 
three  days  the  number  of  new  cases  were  daily  recorded, 
but  after  that  the  news  was  suppressed.  The  condition 
threatened  to  become  too  great  a scandal,  for  on  the 
third  day  there  were  176  new  cases! 

According  to  an  old  prison  director  whom  I inter- 
viewed, at  least  twenty  per  cent  of  the  prisoners  at 
Belem  contract  tuberculosis.  This  prison  director  spent 
many  years  in  the  prison  at  Puebla.  There,  he  says, 
seventy-five  per  cent  of  the  men  who  go  into  the  place 
come  out,  if  they  ever  come  out,  with  tuberculosis. 

Torture  such  as  was  employed  in  the  Middle  Ages 
is  used  in  Belem  to  secure  confessions.  When  a man 
is  taken  to  the  police  station,  if  he  is  suspected  of  a 
felony  he  is  strung  up  by  the  thumbs  until  he  tells. 
Another  method  used  is  that  of  refusing  the  prisoner 
drink.  He  is  given  food  but  no  water  until  he 
chokes.  Ofter  prisoners  declare  before  the  judge  that 
they  have  been  tortured  into  confession,  but  no  inves- 
tigation is  made.  There  are — inevitably — records  of 
innocent  men  who  have  confessed  to  murder  in  order 
to  escape  the  torture  of  the  thumbs  or  of  the  thirst. 
While  I was  in  Mexico  two  Americans  suspected  of  rob- 
bery were  reported  in  the  newspapers  as  having  been 
arrested,  their  wrists  strapped  to  the  bars  of  their  cells, 
and  their  finger  nails  jerked  out  with  steel  pincers. 
This  incident  was  reported  to  our  State  Department, 
but  no  action  was  taken. 

San  Juan  de  Ulua  is  an  old  military  fortress  situated 
in  the  harbor  of  Veracruz — a fortress  which  has  been 
turned  into  a prison.  Officially  San  Juan  de  Ulua  is 
known  as  a military  prison,  but  in  fact  it  is  a political 


156 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


prison,  a prison  for  political  suspects,  and  so  choice  is 
the  company  that  resides  therein — resides,  but  is  ever 
changing,  for  the  members  die  fast — and  so  personal 
is  the  attention  given  to  this  place  by  President  Diaz, 
that  throughout  Mexico  San  Juan  de  Ulua  is  popularly 
known  as  the  “private  prison  of  Diaz.” 

San  Juan  de  Ulua  is  built  of  cement,  the  prison  cells 
are  under  the  sea  and  the  salt  water  seeps  through  upon 
the  prisoners,  some  of  whom  lie,  half-naked  and  half- 
starved,  in  dark  dungeons  too  small  to  permit  of  a full 
grown  man  lying  down  in  comfort.  To  San  Juan  de 
Ulua  was  sent  Juan  Sarabia,  vice-president  of  the  Lib- 
eral Party,  Margarita  Martinez,  a leader  of  the  strike 
at  Rio  Blanco,  Lazaro  Puente,  Carlos  Humbert,  Abra- 
ham Salcido,  Leonardo  Villarreal,  Bruno  Trevino  and 
Gabriel  Rubio,  a sextet  of  gentlemen  handed  over  to 
Mexico  by  the  United  States  government  at  the  request 
of  the  former  as  “undesirable  immigrants;”  Caesar  Ca- 
nales, Juan  de  la  Torre,  Serrano,  Ugalde,  Marquez,  and 
scores  of  other  leaders  of  the  Liberal  movement.  Since 
entering  those  grey  walls  few  of  these  men  or  women 
have  ever  been  heard  of  again.  It  is  not  known  whether 
they  are  dead  or  alive,  whether  they  were  shot  beyond 
the  walls,  whether  they  died  of  disease  and  starvation 
or  whether  they  are  still  eking  out  a miserable  existence 
there,  hoping  against  hope  that  a freer  government  will 
come  and  set  them  free.  They  have  never  been  heard 
of  because  no  political  prisoner  in  San  Juan  de  Ulua 
is  ever  permitted  to  communicate  in  any  way  with  his 
friends  or  with  the  outside  world.  They  cross  the  har- 
bor in  a little  boat,  they  disappear  within  the  grey  walls 
and  that  is  all.  Their  friends  never  learn  how  they  get 
on,  nor  when  they  die  or  how. 

Of  the  official  assassins  of  Mexico  the  jefe  politico  is 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  157 

the  arch  fiend.  The  jcfe  politico  commands  the  local 
police  and  rurales,  directs  the  acordada  and  frequently 
gives  orders  to  the  regular  troops.  While,  because  of 
government  control  of  the  press,  comparatively  few 
crimes  of  the  jefes  politicos  become  public,  yet  during 
my  most  recent  visit  to  Mexico — during  the  winter  and 
spring  of  1909 — two  wholesale  killings  which  were 
prompted  by  jefes  politicos  were  widely  reported  in  the 
newspapers  of  that  country.  One  was  that  of  Tehuit- 
zingo,  where  sixteen  citizens  were  executed  without 
trial,  and  the  other  was  that  of  Velardena,  where,  for 
holding  a street  parade  -in  defiance  of  the  jefe  politico, 
several  were  shot  down  in  the  streets  and  a number  vari- 
ously estimated  as  from  twelve  to  thirty-two  were  ar- 
rested, lined  up  and  shot,  and  buried  in  trenches  which 
they  had  been  compelled  to  dig  previously  with  their 
own  hands. 

A comment  of  El  Pais,  a conservative  Catholic  daily 
of  the  capital  on  the  Tehuitzingo  affair,  published  in 
April,  was  as  follows: 

“Terrible  accounts  have  reached  this  capital  as  to  what  is 
taking  place  at  Tehuitzingo,  District  of  Acatlan,  State  of  Puebla. 
It  is  insistently  reported  that  sixteen  citizens  have  been  executed 
without  trial  and  that  many  others  will  be  condemned  to  twenty 
years’  confinement  in  the  fortress  of  San  Juan  de  Ulua. 

“What  are  the  causes  that  have  given  rise  to  this  barbarous 
persecution,  which  has  dyed  our  soil  anew  with  the  people’s 
blood? 

“It  is  the  fierce,  infamous  caciquismo  which  oppresses  the 
people  with  a heavy  yoke  and  which  has  deprived  them  of  all 
the  benefits  of  peace. 

“We  ask,  in  the  name  of  law  and  of  humanity  that  this 
hecatomb  cease;  we  ask  that  the  guilty  parties  be  tried  fairly 
and  calmly  according  to  the  law.  But  among  those  guilty 
parties  should  be  included  those  who  provoked  the  disturbance, 
those  who  drove  the  people  to  frenzy  by  trampling  their  rights. 


158 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


If  the  jefe  politico  sought  to  defy  the  law  by  dictating  an  elec- 
tion, he  is  guilty  or  more  guilty  than  the  rioters  and  ought  to 
be  made  to  appear  with  them  before  the  authorities  to  answer 
for  his  acts.” 

This  is  about  as  violent  an  outburst  as  is  ever  per- 
mitted to  appear  in  a Mexican  publication,  and  there  are 
few  papers  that  would  dare  go  this  far.  Had  El  Pais 
wished  to  charge  the  guilt  to  General  Diaz  as  the  founder 
and  perpetuator  of  the  little  czardom  of  the  jcfcs  polit- 
icos, it  would  not  have  dared  to  do  so,  for  in  Mexico 
the  king  can  do  no  wrong;  there  is  no  publication  in  the 
country  so  strong  that  it  would  not  be  suppressed  at 
once  did  it  directly  criticize  the  head  of  the  government. 
The  comment  of  El  Tiempo,  another  leading  conserva- 
tive daily  of  the  capital,  on  the  Velardena  massacre, 
which  appeared  also  in  April,  was : 

‘‘These  irregular  executions  are  a cause  of  profound  dissatis- 
faction and  ought  to  be  put  a stop  to  at  once  for  the  sake  of  the 
prestige  of  the  authorities ; and  in  order  to  attain  that  end  it  is 
necessary  that  the  authors  of  such  outrages  should  be  severely 
chastised,  as  we  hope  that  those  who  are  responsible  for  the 
sanguinary  scenes  that  have  been  witnessed  at  Velardena,  and 
which  have  occasioned  so  much  horror  and  indignation  through- 
out the  republic,  will  be. 

“Let  it  not  be  said  that  Velardena  is  an  isolated  case  without 
precedents.  Only  to  mention  a few  of  the  cases  that  are  fresh 
in  the  public  memory,  theer  is  the  Papantla  affair,  the  affair  at 
Acayucan,  the  shootings  at  Orizaba  at  the  time  of  the  strike,  the 
shootings  at  Colima,  of  which  the  press  has  been  talking  just  of 
late,  and  the  frequent  application  of  the  ley  fuga,  of  which  the 
most  recent  instance  occurred  at  Calimaya,  Tenango,  State  of 
Mexico.” 

In  closing  this  chapter  perhaps  I can  do  no  better  than 
to  quote  an  item  which  appeared  in  The  Mexican  Her- 
ald, the  leading  daily  published  in  English,  February  15, 
1910.  Though  the  facts  were  perfectly  well  authenti- 


REPRESSIVE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  DIAZ  MACHINE  159 

cated,  the  Herald  dared  to  print  the  story  only  on  the 
authority  of  another  paper,  and  it  presented  the  matter  in 
such  mild  and  cautious  terms  that  it  will  require  a care- 
ful reading  to  bring  out  the  full  horror  of  the  deed. 
Here  is  the  item: 

“The  Pais  gives  the  following  story,  the  details  of  which  it 
qualifies  as  too  monstrous  for  even  Zelaya  to  attribute  to  Estrada 
Cabrera : 

“Luis  Villasenor,  prefect  of  Cualcoman,  Michoacan,  recently 
shot  without  trial  an  old  man  because  his  son  committed  a 
murder.  The  victim  in  this  case  was  Ignacio  Chavez  Guizar, 
one  of  the  principal  merchants  of  the  place. 

“Some  days  ago  a member  of  the  rural  police  (a  rurale ) 
arrived  at  the  house  of  the  deceased  in  a state  of  intoxication 
and  began  to  insult  and  abuse  the  family.  A quarrel  succeeded, 
in  which  the  policeman  was  shot  by  Jose  Chavez. 

“The  prefect  of  police  arrived  on  the  scene  of  the  trouble  and 
arrested  the  father  and  another  son,  Benjamin,  the  slayer  hav- 
ing made  his  escape,  and  took  them  to  the  police  station.  That 
was  the  last  seen  of  them.  Soon  the  people  of  the  town  began 
to  inquire  what  had  happened  to  them.  The  story  was  spread 
that  they  had  escaped  from  prison.  But  a relative,  a nephew 
of  the  deceased  father,  having  a certain  suspicion  that  this 
story  was  not  true,  opened  what  appeared  to  him  a recently 
made  grave,  near  the  police  station,  and  there  found  the  corpses 
of  the  two  men  who  had  been  recently  arrested.  The  prefect, 
not  having  been  able  to  capture  Jose  or  to  learn  where  he  was, 
had  made  the  father  and  brother  suffer  for  his  crime. 

“Commenting  on  this  story,  the  Pais  calls  for  the  punishment 
of  the  author  and  the  guarantee  of  the  carrying  out  of  the 
laws  of  the  country.” 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 

Men  and  women  on  our  continent  are  daily  suffer- 
ing death,  imprisonment  or  exile  for  contending  for 
those  political  rights  which  we  have  considered  as  ours 
since  the  birth  of  our  country,  rights  of  free  speech, 
of  free  press,  the  right  of  assembly,  the  right  to  vote 
to  decide  who  shall  hold  the  political  offices  and  govern 
the  land,  the  right  to  be  secure  in  person  and  property. 
For  these  things  hundreds  of  men  and  women  have 
died  within  the  past  twelve  months,  tens  of  thousands 
within  the  past  thirty  years,  in  a country  divided  from 
ours  only  by  a shallow  river  and  an  imaginary  geo- 
graphical line. 

In  Mexico  today  are  being  lived  life  stories  such  as 
carry  one’s  imagination  back  to  the  days  of  the  French 
Revolution  and  the  times  when  constitutional  govern- 
ment, that  giant  which  was  destined  to  complete  the 
change  from  the  Middle  Ages  to  Modernity,  was  being 
born.  In  those  days  men  yielded  up  their  lives  for 
republicanism.  Men  are  doing  the  same  today  in  Mex- 
ico. The  repressive  part  of  the  Diaz  governmental  ma- 
chine which  I described  in  the  last  previous  chapter 
— the  army,  the  r males,  the  ordinary  police,  the  secret 
police,  the  acordada — are  perhaps  one-fifth  for  protec- 
tion against  common  criminals  and  four-fifths  for  the 
suppression  of  democratic  movements  among  the  peo- 
ple. The  deadly  certainty  of  this  repressive  machine 


160 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


1611 


of  Diaz  is  probably  not  equaled  anywhere  in  the  world, 
not  even  in  Russia.  I remember  a trusted  Mexican 
official  once  summing  up  to  me  the  feeling  of  the  Mex- 
ican people,  taught  them  by  experience,  on  this  thing. 
Said  he : “It  is  possible  that  a murderer  may  escape 

the  police  here,  that  a highwayman  may  get  away,  but 
a political  offender  never — it  is  not  possible  for  one 
to  escape !” 

I myself  have  observed  numerous  instances  of  the 
deadly  fear  in  which  the  secret  police  and  the  govern- 
ment assassin  are  held  even  by  those  who  would  seem 
to  have  no  cause  for  fear.  Notable  among  these  is  the 
panic  which  overtook  the  family  of  a friend  with  whom 
I was  staying — his  brother,  sister,  sister-in-law  and 
nephew  and  niece — when  the  secret  police  surrounded 
their  house  in  the  capital  and  waited  for  my  friend  to 
come  out.  They  were  middle-class  Mexicans  of  the 
most  intelligent  sort,  this  family,  very  well  known  and 
highly  respected,  and  yet  their  fright  was  pitiful.  Now 
they  dashed  this  way  and  that,  now  to  a window  and 
now  to  a door,  wringing  their  hands.  Now  they  huddled 
together,  verbally  painting  the  dire  calamities  that  were 
sure  to  descend  not  only  upon  the  hunted  one,  but  upon 
their  own  heads  because  he  had  been  found  with  them. 
My  friend  had  committed  no  crime.  He  had  not  been 
identified  with  the  revolutionists,  he  had  merely  ex- 
pressed sympathy  for  them,  and  yet  his  family  could 
see  nothing  but  death  for  him.  And  after  the  fugitive 
had  escaped  by  jumping  through  a window  and  climbing 
over  house-tops,  the  head  of  the  family,  speaking  of 
his  own  danger,  said  to  me:  “I  myself  may  go  to  jail 

for  a time  while  they  try  to  compel  me  to  tell  where 
my  brother  is  hiding.  If  I do  not  go  it  will  be  only 
because  the  government  has  decided  to  respect  me  for 


162 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


my  position  and  my  influential  friends,  yet  hourly  I am 
expecting  the  tap  on  the  arm  that  will  tell  me  to  go.” 

The  case  of  most  extreme  fear  which  I observed  was 
that  of  a wealthy  and  beautiful  woman,  wife  of  an  offi- 
cial of  the  Rio  Blanco  mills,  with  whom  De  Lara  and 
I took  dinner  one  day.  The  official  drank  deeply  of 
wine,  and  as  the  meal  was  near  an  end  his  tongue 
loosened  and  he  spoke  of  matters  which,  for  the  sake 
of  his  own  safety,  he  should  have  guarded.  The  wife 
sat  opposite  him,  and  as  he  spoke  of  government  mur- 
ders of  which  he  knew  her  face  blanched  and  with  her 
eyes  she  tried  to  warn  him  to  be  more  careful.  Finally 
I turned  my  face  away,  and,  glancing  sidewise,  saw  her 
take  the  opportunity  to  bend  forward  over  the  table 
and  shake  a trembling,  jeweled  finger  in  his  face.  Again 
and  again  she  tried  skilfully  to  turn  the  conversation, 
but  without  success,  until  finally,  unable  to  control  her- 
self longer,  she  sprang  forward,  and,  clapping  a hand 
over  her  husband’s  lips,  tried  to  dam  back  the  fearsome 
words  he  was  saying.  The  animal  terror  on  that  wom- 
an’s face  I can  never  forget. 

Fear  so  widespread  and  so  extreme  as  I met  with 
cannot  be  the  result  of  imagined  dangers.  There  must 
be  something  behind  it,  and  there  is.  Secret  killing 
is  constantly  going  on  in  Mexico,  but  to  what  extent 
no  one  will  ever  know.  It  is  asserted  in  some  quarters 
that  there  are  more  political  executions  going  on  right 
now  than  ever  before,  but  that  they  are  more  cleverly 
and  secretly  done  than  ever  before.  Whether  that  is 
true  or  not  I do  not  know.  Certainly  the  press  is  better 
controlled  than  ever  before.  The  apparent  quiescence 
of  Mexico  is  entirely  forced  by  means  of  club,  pistol  and 
knife. 

Mexico  has  never  really  enjoyed  political  freedom. 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


163 


The  country  has  merely  had  the  promise  of  it.  How- 
ever, the  promise  has  undoubtedly  helped  to  keep  patri- 
otic Mexicans  fighting  for  a fulfillment,  however  great 
the  odds  against  them.  When  Porfirio  Diaz  captured 
the  Mexican  government  in  1876  the  Mexican  battle 
for  political  freedom  seemed  won.  The  last  foreign 
soldier  had  been  driven  out  of  the  country,  the  throt- 
tling grip  of  the  church  on  the  state  had  been  broken, 
the  country  had  inaugurated  a system  of  universal  suf- 
frage, it  had  adopted  a constitution  much  like  that  of 
the  United  States,  and  finally,  its  president,  one  of  the 
authors  of  the  constitution,  Lerdo  de  Tejada,  was  in 
the  act  of  putting  that  constitution  in  operation.  The 
personal  revolution  of  General  Porfirio  Diaz,  made  suc- 
cessful by  force  of  arms  only  after  it  had  failed  twice, 
put  a sudden  stop  to  the  progressive  movement,  and  ever 
since  that  time  the  country  has  gone  back  politically, 
year  by  year.  If  it  were  humanly  possibly  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  movement  for  democracy  in  a country  by 
killing  the  leaders  and  persecuting  all  connected  with  it, 
democracy  would  long  ago  have  been  killed  in  Mexico, 
for  the  leaders  of  every  political  movement  in  opposi- 
tion to  President  Diaz,  however  peaceful  their  methods, 
however  worthy  their  cause,  have  either  been  put  to 
death,  imprisoned  or  hunted  out  of  the  country.  And 
as  I shall  show  in  the  next  chapter,  this  statement  is 
literally  true  down  to  the  present  day. 

Briefly  I will  sketch  some  of  the  more  important  of 
these  opposition  movements.  The  first  occurred  toward 
the  close  of  President  Diaz’s  first  term  in  office  and  was 
a movement  having  for  its  purpose  the  re-election  of 
Lerdo,  who,  upon  Diaz’s  capture  of  the  power,  had  fled 
to  the  United  States.  The  movement  had  not  time  to 
gain  any  headway  and  come  out  in  the  open  before 


164 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


it  was  crushed  in  the  most  summary  manner.  The 
leaders  were  considered  as  conspirators  and  were  treated 
as  if  they  were  guilty  of  treasonable  acts — worse,  in 
fact,  for  they  were  not  even  given  a semblance  of  a 
trial.  On  a night  in  June,  1879,  nine  men,  prominent 
citizens  of  Veracruz,  were  dragged  from  their  beds, 
and  on  an  order  telegraphed  from  General  Diaz,  “Mata- 
los  en  calientc,”  “Kill  them  in  haste,”  Governor  Mier 
y Teran  had  them  lined  up  against  a wall  and  shot  to 
death. 

While  this  incident  happened  thirty  years  ago,  it  is 
perfectly  authenticated,  and  the  widow  of  General  Teran 
exhibits  to  this  day  the  yellow  paper  upon  which  are 
inscribed  the  fatal  words.  The  killing  is  now  known  as 
the  Massacre  of  Veracruz  and  is  noted  because  of  the 
prominence  of  the  victims  rather  than  for  the  number 
of  those  who  lost  their  lives. 

During  the  ten  years  following  the  Massacre  of  Vera- 
cruz two  Mexicans  aspired  at  different  times  to  oppose 
Diaz  for  the  presidency.  One  of  these  was  General 
Ramon  Corona,  governor  of  Jalisco,  and  the  other  was 
General  Garcia  de  la  Cadena,  ex-governor  of  Zacatecas. 
Neither  lived  to  see  “election  day.”  While  on  his  way 
home  from  a theatre  one  night  Corona  was  stabbed  to 
death  by  an  assassin,  who  was  in  turn  stabbed  to  death 
by  a company  of  police  which,  by  a strange  coincidence, 
was  waiting  for  him  around  a near  corner.  Cadena  heard 
that  assassins  were  on  his  trail  and  took  flight.  He  tried 
to  reach  the  United  States,  but  was  caught  at  Zacatecas 
and  shot  to  death,  being  pierced  by  many  bullets  from 
the  pistols  of  thugs,  all  of  whom  escaped.  No  one  can 
prove  who  ordered  the  killing  of  Corona  and  Cadena, 
but  it  is  easy  to  draw  conclusions. 

In  1891  Mexico  was  thrown  into  a ferment  by  the 


A Typical  Mexican  Military  Execution 


LINED  UP  AGAINST  A WALL 


AFTER  THE  VOLLEY 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


165 


announcement  of  Diaz  that  he  had  decided  to  continue 
in  power  for  still  another  term,  a fourth  one.  An 
attempt  was  made  to  organize  a movement  in  opposi- 
tion, but  it  was  beaten  down  by  clubs  and  guns.  Ricardo 
Flores  Magon,  the  political  refugee,  took  a student’s 
part  in  this  movement  and  was  one  of  the  many  who 
suffered  imprisonment  for  it.  The  choice  of  the  oppo- 
sition for  presidency  was  Dr.  Ignacio  Martinez.  Dr. 
Martinez  was  compelled  to  flee  the  country,  and  after 
a period  spent  in  Europe  he  settled  in  Laredo,  Texas, 
where  he  edited  a newspaper  in  opposition  to  President 
Diaz.  One  evening  Dr.  Martinez  was  waylaid  and  shot 
down  by  a horseman  who  immediately  afterwards 
crossed  into  Mexico  and  was  seen  to  enter  army  bar- 
racks on  the  other  side.  It  is  a pretty  well  authenticated 
fact  that  on  the  night  of  the  assassination  the  governor 
of  the  state  of  Nuevo  Leon,  who  was  at  that  time  recog- 
nized as  Diaz’s  right-hand  man  in  the  border  states, 
received  a telegram  saying:  “Your  order  obeyed.” 

The  only  movement  which  Diaz  ever  permitted  to 
gain  much  headway  in  the  matter  of  organization  was 
the  Liberal  Party.  The  Liberal  Party  sprang  into  birth 
in  the  fall  of  1900,  after  all  danger  of  effective  opposi- 
tion against  the  dictator’s  entering  upon  a sixth  term 
had  been  obviated.  A speech  delivered  in  Paris  by  the 
Bishop  of  San  Luis  Potosi,  in  which  the  priest  declared 
that,  in  spite  of  the  constitution  and  the  laws  of  Mexico, 
the  church  in  that  country  was  in  a most  flourishing  and 
satisfactory  condition,  was  the  immediate  cause  of  the 
organization.  Mexicans  of  all  classes  saw  greater  danger 
to  the  national  welfare  in  the  renascence  of  a church  heir- 
archy  than  they  did  even  in  a dictatorship  by  a single 
individual,  for  death  must  some  day  end  the  rule  of 
the  man,  while  the  life  of  the  church  is  endless.  They 


166 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


therefore  once  more  took  their  lives  in  their  hands  and 
attempted  to  launch  still  another  movement  for  the 
restoration  of  the  republic. 

In  less  than  five  months  after  the  bishop’s  speech 
125  Liberal  clubs  had  arisen  in  all  parts  of  the  country, 
a half  hundred  newspapers  were  started,  and  a call  was 
issued  for  a convention  to  be  held  in  the  city  of  San 
Luis  Potosi  on  January  5,  1901. 

The  congress  was  held  in  the  famous  Tcatro  dc  la  Pas. 
It  was  jammed  with  delegates  and  spectators,  among 
the  latter  being  many  soldiers  and  gendarmes,  while 
in  the  street  below  a battalion  of  soldiers  was  drawn 
up,  ready  to  deal  with  the  assembly  should  its  voice 
be  raised  against  the  dictator. 

Anything  so  radical  as  an  armed  rebellion  was  not 
spoken  of,  however,  and  the  various  speakers  steered 
carefully  away  from  any  direct  criticism  of  President 
Diaz.  On  the  other  hand,  resolutions  were  adopted 
pledging  the  Liberals  to  pursue  the  campaign  of  reform 
only  by  peaceful  means. 

Nevertheless,  as  soon  as  it  became  evident  that  the 
Liberals  were  planning  to  nominate  a candidate  for 
the  presidency,  three  years  later,  the  government  began 
operations.  By  Russian  police  methods,  the  clubs  all 
over  the  country  were  broken  up  and  the  leading  mem- 
bers were  arrested  on  fictitious  charges,  imprisoned  or 
forced  into  the  army.  A typical  case  was  that  of  the 
club  “Ponciano  Arriaga,”  of  San  Luis  Potosi,  which 
formed  the  national  center  of  the  federation.  On  Janu- 
ary 24,  1902,  although  other  clubs  had  been  violently 
broken  up  for  doing  so,  “Ponciano  Arriaga”  made  bold 
to  hold  a public  meeting.  Here  and  there  among  the 
people  were  distributed  soldiers  and  gendarmes  in  citi- 
zens’ clothing,  under  the  command  of  a prominent  law- 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


167 


yer  and  congressman,  an  agent  provocateur,  who  had 
been  commissioned  by  the  government  to  destroy  the 
organization. 

At  a given  moment,  according  to  Librado  Rivera, 
who  was  vice-secretary  of  the  club,  the  agent  provocateur 
jumped  to  his  feet  to  protest  against  the  work  of  the 
club,  and  at  the  signal  the  disguised  soldiers  and  gend- 
armes feigned  to  join  in  the  protest,  smashing  the  chairs 
to  pieces  against  the  floor.  Their  leader  fired  some 
shots  into  the  air,  but  the  genuine  audience  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  club  did  not  make  the  least  move  lest  they 
give  some  pretext  for  an  attack,  for  they  knew  that 
the  agent  provocateur  and  his  assistants  were  but  stag- 
ing a comedy  in  order  to  invite  violence  to  themselves 
from  some  members  of  the  club.  Nevertheless,  hardly 
were  the  shots  fired  when  a crowd  of  policemen  in- 
vaded the  hall,  striking  right  and  left  with  their  clubs. 
Camilo  Arriaga,  president  of  the  club;  Juan  Sarabia, 
secretary;  Professor  Librado  Rivera,  vice-secretary,  as 
well  as  twenty-five  other  members,  were  arrested  and 
accused  of  fictitious  crimes,  such  as  resisting  the  police, 
sedition,  and  so  on.  The  result  was  that  they  were  all 
imprisoned  for  nearly  a year  and  the  club  was  dissolved. 

Thus  were  dissolved  the  majority  of  the  other  clubs 
in  the  Liberal  federation.  The  Liberal  newspapers,  pub- 
lic spokesmen  of  the  clubs,  were  put  out  of  business  by 
the  imprisonment  of  their  editors  and  the  destruction 
or  confiscation  of  the  printing  plants.  How  many  men 
and  women  lost  their  lives  in  the  hunt  of  the  Liberals 
which  extended  over  the  succeeding  years  will  never  be 
known.  The  jails,  penitentiaries  and  military  prisons 
were  filled  with  them,  thousands  were  impressed  into 
the  army  and  sent  away  to  death  in  far  Quintana  Roo, 
wnile  the  ley  fuga  was  called  into  requisition  to  get  rid 


168 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


of  men  whom  the  government  did  not  dare  to  execute 
openly  and  without  excuse.  In  the  prisons  tortures  such 
as  would  almost  shame  the  Spanish  Inquisition  were 
resorted  to 

Upon  the  organization  of  the  Liberal  Party  some  fifty 
newspapers  sprang  up  to  support  it  in  different  parts 
of  the  country.  Every  one  of  them  was  suppressed  by 
the  police.  Ricardo  Flores  Magon  once  showed  me  a 
list  of  more  than  fifty  newspapers  that  were  suppressed 
and  a list  of  more  than  a hundred  editors  that  were 
jailed  during  the  time  he  was  struggling  to  publish  a 
paper  in  Mexico.  In  his  book  Fornaro  gives  a list  of 
thirty-nine  newspapers  that  were  persecuted  or  sub- 
jected to  trial  on  trivial  excuses  in  the  year  1902  for 
the  purpose  of  providing  against  any  public  agitation 
against  a seventh  term  for  President  Diaz.  During 
1908  there  were  at  least  six  outright  suppressions,  the 
newspapers  to  be  put  out  of  business  being  “El  Piloto,” 
a daily  of  Monterey;  “La  Humanidad”  and  “La  Tierra,” 
two  weeklies  of  Yucatan;  “El  Tecolote,”  of  Aguasca- 
lientes,  and  two  of  Guanajuato,  “El  Barretero”  and  “El 
Hi  jo  del  Pueblo.”  During  the  period  while  I was  in 
Mexico  at  least  two  foreign  newspaper  men  were  de- 
ported for  criticizing  the  government,  two  Spaniards, 
Ross  y Planas  and  Antonio  Duch,  editors  of  the  paper 
“La  Tierra,”  in  Merida.  Finally,  in  1909  and  1910 
the  story  of  the  suppression  of  the  Liberal  Party  and 
its  press  was  repeated  in  the  suppression  of  the  Demo- 
cratic Party  and  its  press — but  I must  reserve  that  for 
another  chapter. 

During  the  Liberal  agitation  many  of  the  best-known 
writers  of  Mexico  fell  by  the  assassin’s  hand.  Among 
them  were  Jesus  Valades  of  Mazatlan,  Sinaloa.  Hav- 
ing written  articles  against  the  despotism,  while  walk- 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES  169 

ing  home  from  the  theatre  one  night  with  his  newly 
wedded  wife  he  was  set  upon  by  several  men,  who 
killed  him  with  daggers.  In  Tampico  in  1902  Vincente 
Rivero  Echeagarey,  a newspaper  man,  dared  to  criti- 
cize the  acts  of  the  president.  He  was  shot  down  at 
night  while  in  the  act  of  opening  his  own  door.  Jesus 
Olmos  y Contreras,  a newspaper  man  of  the  state  of 
Puebla,  about  the  same  time  published  articles  expos- 
ing an  alleged  licentious  act  of  Governor  Martinez.  Two 
friends  of  the  governor  invited  Contreras  to  supper. 
In  the  street  the  three  walked  arm  in  arm,  the  writer 
in  the  middle.  Suddenly  thugs  fell  upon  him  from  be- 
hind. The  false  friends  held  Contreras  tight  until  he 
had  been  struck  down,  when  a heavy  rock  was  used 
to  beat  the  head  of  the  victim  into  a pulp  so  that  his 
identification  might  be  impossible. 

In  Merida,  Yucatan,  in  December,  1905,  the  writer, 
Abalardo  Ancona,  protested  against  the  “re-election” 
of  Governor  Olegario  Molina.  Ancona  was  thrown  into 
jail,  where  he  was  shot  and  stabbed  to  death. 

In  1907  the  writer,  Augustin  y Tovao,  died  of  poison 
administered  in  Belem  prison.  Jesus  Martinez  Carrion, 
a noted  newspaper  artist,  and  Alberto  Arans,  a writer, 
left  Belem  to  die  in  a hospital.  Dr.  Juan  de  la  Pena, 
editor  of  a Liberal  newspaper,  died  in  the  military  prison 
of  San  Juan  de  Ulua.  Juan  Sarabia,  another  well- 
known  editor,  was  also  imprisoned  there  and  for  a long 
time  was  supposed  to  be  dead,  until  recently,  when  his 
friends  got  word  of  him.  Daniel  Cabrera,  one  of  the 
oldest  Liberal  editors,  wras  a cripple,  and  many  times  he 
was  carried  to  jail  on  a stretcher. 

Professor  Luis  Toro,  an  editor  of  San  Luis  Potosi, 
was  imprisoned  and  beaten  in  prison  so  severely  that  he 
died.  In  the  same  prison  Primo  Feliciano  Velasquez^ 


170 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


a lawyer  and  publisher  of  “El  Estandarte,”  was  beaten 
so  severely  that  he  became  a life-long  cripple.  Another 
attorney  and  editor,  Francisco  de  P.  Morelos,  was  beaten 
in  the  city  of  Monterey  for  writing  against  the  govern- 
ment in  his  paper,  “La  Defensa.”  In  Guanajuato,  Jose 
R.  Granados,  editor  of  “El  Barretero,”  was  beaten  for 
writing  against  the  government.  In  Napimi,  a lawyer, 
Francisco  A.  Luna,  was  beaten  and  wounded  with  knives 
for  writing  against  the  government. 

And  so  a list  could  be  given  pages  long.  Ricardo 
Flores  Magon,  Jesus  Magon,  Enrique  Magon,  Antonio 
J.  Villarreal,  Librado  Rivera,  Manuel  Sarabia  and 
many  others  spent  months  in  prison  for  publishing  oppo- 
sition papers.  Others  were  assassinated.  As  I said 
before,  autocracy  feeds  on  murder,  and  the  rule  of 
Porfirio  Diaz  has  been  one  long  story  of  murder.  When 
assassination,  imprisonment  and  countless  forms  of  per- 
secution had  destroyed  their  organization  in  Mexico,  the 
leaders  who  still  retained  their  lives  and  liberty  fled 
to  the  United  States  and  established  their  headquarters 
here.  They  organized  the  Junta,  or  governing  board 
of  the  Party,  established  newspapers,  and  it  was  only 
after  the  agents  of  the  home  government  had  followed 
them  here  and  succeeded  in  so  harassing  them  with 
false  charges  which  resulted  in  their  imprisonment  that 
they  abandoned  all  hope  of  doing  anything  peaceful  for 
the  regeneration  of  their  country  and  decided  to  organ- 
ize an  armed  force  for  the  purpose  of  overthrowing  the 
Mexican  dictator. 

The  story  of  the  persecutions  visited  upon  the  Mex- 
ican refugees  in  the  United  States  I will  detail  in  an- 
other chapter.  It  is  sufficient  here  to  pass  over  them 
and  point  merely  to  the  result  of  their  attempts  to  bring 
about  a change  in  their  government  by  revolution. 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


171 


Briefly,  the  Liberal  Party  has  launched  two  armed 
revolutions  against  Diaz.  Both  of  these  have  come  to 
grief  at  an  early  stage;  first,  because  of  the  efficiency 
of  the  government  in  putting  spies  in  the  midst  of  the 
revolutionists  and  thus  being  able  to  anticipate  them; 
second,  because  of  the  severe  methods  used  in  repres- 
sion; and,  third,  because  of  the  effective  co-operation 
of  the  United  States  government,  since  the  uprisings 
were  necessarily  directed  from  this  side  of  the  line. 

The  first  Liberal  attempt  at  revolution  was  to  have 
been  launched  in  September,  1906.  The  rebels  claim 
to  have  had  thirty-six  military  groups  partially  armed 
within  Mexico  and  ready  to  rise  at  one  signal.  They 
expected  that  at  the  first  show  of  strength  on  their 
part  the  army  would  desert  to  their  standard  and  that 
the  civilians  would  receive  them  with  open  arms. 

Whether  they  judged  the  army  and  the  people  cor- 
rectly will  never  be  known,  for  they  never  succeeded 
in  making  any  great  show  of  strength.  Government 
spies  betrayed  the  various  groups,  and  when  the  ap- 
pointed hour  struck  the  majority  of  the  leaders  were 
already  dead  or  domiciled  in  San  Juan  de  Ulua.  The 
revolution  was  to  begin  on  the  national  independence 
day,  September  16,  and  the  way  the  government  pre- 
pared for  it  generally  may  be  imagined  from  the  report 
which  I previously  quoted  of  the  large  number  of  secret 
killings  in  Diaz’s  capital. 

Liberal  groups  in  two  cities  succeeded  in  making  a 
start.  One  group  captured  the  town  of  Jiminez, 
Coahuila,  and  another  laid  siege  to  the  army  barracks 
at  Acayucan,  state  of  Veracruz.  Civilians  joined  them 
in  these  two  cities,  and  for  a day  they  enjoyed  partial 
success.  Then  trainloads  of  troops  got  into  each  town, 
and  in  a few  days  what  was  left  of  the  rebel  force  was 


172 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


on  its  way  to  prison.  The  concentration  of  troops  into 
those  towns  was  nothing  short  of  wonderful.  As  before 
stated,  though  Acayucan  is  comparatively  isolated,  4,000 
regular  soldiers  reached  the  scene  within  twenty-four 
hours  after  hostilities  began. 

The  second  rebellion  was  scheduled  to  come  off  in 
July,  1908.  This  time  the  Liberals  claimed  to  have 
forty-six  military  groups  ready  to  rise  in  Mexico.  But, 
as  it  turned  out,  nearly  all  the  fighting  was  done  by 
Mexican  refugees,  who  recrossed  from  the  United  States 
at  Del  Rio,  Texas,  and  other  border  centers,  armed  with 
guns  purchased  here.  The  Liberal  leaders  here  claim 
that  every  military  group  in  Mexico  was  anticipated 
by  the  government  and  the  members  arrested  before 
the  appointed  hour.  This  certainly  occurred  at  Casas 
Grandes,  Chihuahua,  and  the  affair,  being  given  much 
publicity,  caused  the  groups  from  the  United  States  to 
act  prematurely.  It  is  also  claimed  that  some  of  the 
strongest  groups  were  betrayed  by  a criminal  who,  be- 
cause of  his  facial  resemblance  to  Antonio  J.  Villarreal, 
secretary  of  the  Liberal  Junta,  was  freed  from  the 
Torreon  jail  and  pardoned  by  the  authorities  on  condi- 
tion that  he  go  among  the  revolutionists,  pass  himself 
off  as  Villarreal  and  betray  them.  I personally  know 
of  two  cases  in  which  emissaries  who  left  the  Liberal 
headquarters  in  the  United  States  carrying  orders  for 
the  rising  of  certain  groups  fell  into  the  clutches  of  the 
government  soon  after  they  crossed  the  line. 

Nevertheless,  the  rebellion  of  June,  1908,  profoundly 
shook  Mexico  for  a time.  The  fighting  in  Coahuila  fur- 
nished the  American  press  with  a week’s  sensation, 
and  it  was  a month  before  the  last  of  the  rebels  had 
been  hunted  down  and  shot  by  the  superior  forces  of 
soldiers  and  rurales. 


THE  CRUSHING  OF  OPPOSITION  PARTIES 


173 


Such  was  the  “Rebellion  of  Las  Vacas,”  as  it  has  come 
to  be  known  both  in  the  United  States  and  Mexico.  As 
a result  of  this  rebellion  and  the  previous  one,  the  Mex- 
ican agents  in  the  United  States  at  last  succeeded  in 
breaking  up  the  Liberal  organization  here  almost  as 
effectively  as  it  was  broken  up  in  Mexico.  Up  to  the 
time  of  the  Congressional  hearing  on  the  persecutions 
in  June,  1910,  all  the  Liberal  leaders  in  the  United  States 
were  either  in  prison  or  in  hiding,  and  no  Mexican  dared 
openly  espouse  the  cause  of  the  Liberal  Party  for  fear 
that  he,  too,  might  be  thrown  behind  the  bars  on  a 
charge  of  having  been  in  some  way  connected  with  one 
of  those  rebellions. 


CHAPTER  X 


THE  EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  entirely  appreciate  the 
fact  that  the  political  reign  of  terror  established  by  Diaz 
thirty- four  years  ago  continues  in  full  bloom  to  the 
present  day  I shall  devote  this  chapter  to  a record  of 
the  presidential  campaign,  so  called,  which  ended  June 
26,  1910,  with  the  eighth  “unanimous  election”  of  Presi- 
dent Diaz. 

To  the  end  that  the  authenticity  of  this  record  may  be 
beyond  question,  I have  excluded  from  it  all  informa- 
tion that  has  come  to  me  by  means  of  rumor,  gossip, 
letters  and  personal  reports — everything  except  what  has 
already  been  printed  in  newspapers  as  common  news. 
In  hardly  an  instance,  moreover,  was  one  of  these  news- 
papers opposed  to  the  regime  of  General  Diaz ; nearly 
all  were  favorable  to  him.  Therefore,  if  there  are  any 
errors  in  these  reports,  it  is  safe  to  assume  that  the  truth 
has  been  minimized  rather  than  overstated.  It  is  safe 
to  assume,  also,  that  since  the  newspapers  from  which 
the  reports  were  taken  are  published  in  Mexico  where 
they  are  under  the  censorship  of  the  police,  that  numer- 
ous other  incidents  of  a similar,  as  well  as  of  a worse, 
character,  occurred  which  were  never  permitted  to 
appear  in  print. 

Before  proceeding  to  these  records  I may  be  pardoned 
for  restating  the  fact  that  President  Diaz  has  held  his 
position  at  the  head  of  the  Mexican  government  for 
more  than  a generation.  In  the  latter  part  of  1876, 
nearly  thirty-four  years  ago,  heading  a personal  revolu- 
tion, he  led  an  army  into  the  Mexican  capital  and  pro- 


174 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 


175 


claimed  himself  provisional  president.  Soon  afterwards, 
he  held  what  is  called  an  election,  and  announced  that 
the  people  had  chosen  him  constitutional  president — 
unanimously.  In  1880  he  turned  the  government  over 
to  a friend,  Manuel  Gonzalez,  who  was  also  elected 
unanimously.  In  1884  Gonzalez  reinstalled  Diaz  after 
a third  unanimous  election.  Following  1884  Diaz  was 
re-elected  unanimously  every  four  years  for  twenty 
years,  until  1904,  when  the  presidential  term  was  length- 
ened to  six  years,  and  for  the  seventh  time  he  was 
elected  unanimously.  Finally,  July  10,  1910,  Diaz  was 
unanimously  elected  president  of  Mexico  for  the  eighth 
time. 

The  Mexican  presidential  campaign  just  closed,  if  I 
may  so  denominate  it,  properly  dates  from  the  month 
of  March,  1908.  At  that  time,  through  James  Creel- 
man  and  Pearson’s  Magazine,  President  Diaz  announced 
to  the  world,  first,  that  under  no  circumstances  would 
he  consent  to  enter  upon  an  eighth  term,  and,  second, 
that  he  would  be  glad  to  assist  in  the  transference  of 
the  governmental  pow'er  from  himself  personally  to  a 
democratic  organization  of  citizens.  According  to  Mr. 
Creelman,  his  words  were : 

“No  matter  what  my  friends  and  supporters  say,  I retire  when 
my  present  term  of  office  ends,  and  I shall  not  serve  again.  I 
shall  be  eighty  years  old  then. 

“I  have  waited  patiently  for  the  day  when  the  people  of  the 
Mexican  Republic  would  be  prepared  to  choose  and  change  their 
government  at  every  election  without  danger  of  armed  revolu- 
tions and  without  injury  to  the  national  credit  or  interference 
with  national  progress.  I believe  that  day  has  come. 

“I  welcome  an  opposition  party  in  the  Mexican  Republic.  If 
it  appears,  I will  regard  it  as  a blessing,  not  an  evil.  And  if  it 
can  develop  power,  not  to  exploit  but  to  govern,  I will  stand 
by  it,  support  it,  advise  it  and  forget  myself  in  the  successful 
inauguration  of  complete  democratic  government  in  the  country.” 


176 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  interview  was  reprinted  by  nearly  every  peri- 
odical in  Mexico,  and  it  produced  a profound  sensation. 
It  is  not  exaggerating  to  say  that  the  entire  nation, 
outside  of  official  circles,  was  overjoyed  by  the  news. 
The  nation  took  General  Diaz  at  his  word,  and  immedi- 
ately there  arose  a lively  but  temperate  discussion  not 
only  of  the  various  possible  candidates  for  the  presi- 
dency, but  also  of  innumerable  questions  relating  to 
popular  government.  Books  and  pamphlets  were  writ- 
ten urging  Diaz  to  immortalize  himself  as  a second 
Washington  by  giving  over  the  government  to  his  people 
when  he  might  very  easily  retain  the  supreme  power 
until  his  death. 

But  at  the  height  of  this  discussion  the  word  was 
passed  quietly  about  that  the  president’s  promise  to 
retire  at  the  end  of  the  term  was  not  final.  To  show 
how  thoroughly  the  government  had  public  speech  and 
the  press  under  control  at  this  time  it  is  only  necessary 
to  say  that  at  once,  upon  the  foregoing  announcement 
being  made,  the  discussion  of  presidential  candidates  for 
1910  stopped. 

Diaz  was  so  thoroughly  entrenched  in  power  that 
there  seemed  little  use  of  opposing  him  directly,  but 
the  people  remembered  the  other  statement  that  he  had 
made  and  that  he  had  not  yet  retracted — that  he  would 
welcome  an  opposition  movement  in  Mexico.  The  dec- 
laration that  he  would  support  an  opposition  movement 
seemed  paradoxical,  and  so  the  bright  heads  of  the 
progressive  element  were  laid  together  to  devise  a move- 
ment that,  while  not  being  in  direct  opposition  to  Diaz, 
would  at  the  same  time  be  able  to  work  an  opening 
wedge  into  the  log  of  democracy. 

The  plan  hit  upon  was  to  urge  President  Diaz  to 
retain  his  seat  and  in  the  same  voice  to  ask  that  the  coun- 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 


177 


try  be  permitted  freely  to  choose  a vice-president,  so 
that  in  case  Diaz  should  die  during  his  next  term  his 
successor  might  be  more  or  less  in  line  with  the  desires 
and  ambitions  of  the  people. 

The  silence  with  which  President  Diaz  received  the 
publication  of  this  plan  was  taken  for  consent,  where- 
upon there  began  a widespread  agitation,  an  organiza- 
tion of  clubs,  the  holding  of  public  discussions,  news- 
paper debates,  all  of  which  might  very  well  be  taken 
as  proof  that  President  Diaz  was  right  when  he  declared 
the  Mexican  people  fit  at  last  to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  a 
real  republic. 

According  to  Mr.  Barron,  in  an  interview  published 
in  the  New  York  World,  within  a short  time  no  fewer 
than  five  hundred  clubs  were  organized  in  Mexico.  In 
January,  1909,  these  clubs  held  a convention  in  the  cap- 
ital, formed  a central  organization  known  as  the  Cen- 
tral Democratic  Club,  elected  officers  and  adopted  a 
platform,  the  main  points  of  which  were  as  follows : 

Abolition  of  the  jefes  politicos  and  the  transference  of  their 
power  to  municipal  boards  of  aldermen. 

The  extension  of  primary  education. 

Suffrage  laws  to  be  enacted  and  enforced  placing  the  franchise 
on  a mixed  educational  and  property  basis. 

Greater  freedom  for  the  press. 

Stricter  enforcement  of  the  laws  of  reform  (against  monastic 
orders,  etc.). 

Greater  respect  for  human  life  and  liberty  and  a more  effective 
administration  of  justice. 

Legislation  making  it  possible  for  workingmen  to  secure 
financial  indemnity  from  their  employers  in  case  of  accidents 
and  to  enable  the  public  to  sue  transportation  companies  and 
other  like  corporations  on  the  same  ground. 

Agrarian  laws  for  the  encouragement  of  agriculture. 

The  officers  elected  to  head  the  new  party  were  four 
bright  young  congressmen:  Benito  Juarez,  Jr.,  presi- 


178 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


dent;  Manuel  Calero,  vice-president;  Diodoro  Batalla, 
secretary;  Jesus  Urueta,  treasurer. 

April  2nd  the  Re-electionist  Club,  an  organization 
consisting  wholly  of  office-holders,  appointees  of  Diaz, 
met  and  duly  nominated  General  Diaz  and  his  vice- 
president,  Ramon  Corral,  for  re-election.  Shortly  after- 
wards, in  accordance  with  its  original  plan,  the  Demo- 
cratic Party  also  named  President  Diaz  for  re-election. 
For  vice-president  it  named  General  Bernardo  Reyes, 
governor  of  Nuevo  Leon. 

Take  a look  at  the  general  situation  for  a moment. 
Here  was  a party  of  men,  consisting  of  the  best  edu- 
cated, most  intelligent  and  most  progressive  element  in 
the  country.  Their  platform  shows  their  demands  to 
have  been  excessively  moderate.  The  party  had  sprung 
into  existence  through  the  published  promise  of  General 
Diaz  to  permit  it  to  function.  In  order  to  assure  itself 
of  safety  at  his  hands,  the  party  had  placed  General 
Diaz  at  the  head  of  its  ticket.  Finally,  the  campaign 
which  it  launched  was  marvelously  temperate  and  self- 
restrained.  There  was  no  call  to  arms.  There  was  no 
hint  of  rebellion  or  revolution  in  any  form.  What 
criticism  as  was  offered  of  existing  institutions  wag 
offered  with  studious  calmness  and  care.  General  Dia? 
was  even  praised.  The  people  were  asked  to  vote  for 
him,  but — to  vote  for  Reyes  for  vice-president. 

It  required  only  a few  days  to  develop  the  fact  that 
in  the  event  of  an  election  Reyes  would  triumph  over 
Corral  by  a large  majority.  Former  enemies  of  Reyes 
were  for  him,  not  because  they  loved  him,  but  because 
the  movement  behind  him  held  out  a promise  of  a little 
self-government  for  Mexico.  As  soon  as  the  popularity 
of  the  Democratic  Party  became  evident,  despite  the 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  179 

order  that  prevailed  at  its  meetings,  despite  the  temper- 
ance of  its  press,  despite  the  fact  that  the  laws  were 
studiously  observed,  instead  of  supporting  and  advising, 
as  he  had  promised  to  do,  General  Diaz  moved  to  de- 
stroy it. 

Diaz’s  first  open  move  against  the  Democratic  Party 
was  to  nip  the  propaganda  for  Reyes  that  was  beginning 
in  the  army.  This  he  did  by  banishing  to  remote  parts 
of  the  country  a dozen  army  officers  who  had  subscribed 
themselves  as  favorable  to  the  candidacy  of  Reyes. 

This  action  of  Diaz  has  been  defended  on  the  ground 
that  he  had  a perfect  right  to  prohibit  members  of  the 
army  from  exercising  political  functions.  But  inasmuch 
as  the  president  of  the  Re-electionist  Club  was  an  officer 
in  the  army,  inasmuch  as  numerous  army  officers  engaged 
openly  and  actively  in  the  Corral  campaign,  it  would 
seem  that  these  men  were  proceeded  against  rather  be- 
cause they  were  for  Reyes  than  because  they  were 
members  of  the  army. 

Captain  Reuben  Morales,  one  of  the  punished  officers, 
had  accepted  the  vice-presidency  of  a Reyist  club.  He 
was  ordered  to  resign  from  the  club  or  to  resign  from 
the  army.  He  resigned  from  the  army,  or  attempted 
to  do  so,  but  his  resignation  was  not  accepted  and  he 
was  sent  away  to  the  territory  of  Quintana  Roo.  Eight 
of  the  offending  officers  were  sent  to  Sonora  to  be  placed 
in  the  field  against  the  Yaqui  Indians. 

The  banishment  of  the  army  officers  took  place  at 
the  end  of  May.  Following  close  upon  the  incident 
came  action  against  some  Democratic  leaders  who  occu- 
pied positions  in  the  government.  Congressmen  Urueta 
and  Lerdo  de  Tejada,  Jr.,  and  Senator  Jose  Lopez  Por- 
tillo were  among  the  first  to  be  deposed  from  their 
positions. 


180 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Some  students  of  the  national  schools  of  jurispru- 
dence, mines,  medicine  and  the  preparatory  school  of 
Mexico  City,  were  encouraged  in  forming  a club  to 
further  the  candidacy  of  Corral.  But  when  the  students 
of  the  Jalisco  state  schools  of  law  and  medicine  formed 
a club  to  further  the  candidacy  of  Reyes  the  govern- 
ment ordered  them  either  to  abandon  their  political 
activity  or  to  leave  school.  They  sent  a committee  to 
Diaz  to  appeal  for  fair  play.  But  he  gave  them  no 
satisfaction,  the  threat  of  expulsion  was  renewed  with 
the  result  that  so  many  students  were  expelled  from 
the  Jalisco  schools  that  the  schools  actually  closed  for 
lack  of  pupils. 

In  July,  a committee  of  re-electionists  from  Mexico 
City  held  a public  meeting  in  favor  of  Corral  in  the 
Delgado  theatre,  Guadalajara,  capital  of  Jalisco.  The 
audience,  composed  largely  of  democratic  students,  hissed 
one  of  the  speakers.  Whereupon  companies  of  police, 
which  had  been  held  in  readiness,  were  ordered  to  clear 
the  building  and  square. 

This  the  police  did  after  the  manner  of  Mexico — 
with  sabre,  club  and  pistol.  The  figures  on  the  killed, 
wounded  and  imprisoned  were  suppressed  by  the  authori- 
ties, but  all  newspaper  reports  at  the  time  agree  that 
there  were  persons  killed  and  wounded,  as  well  as 
imprisoned.  The  highest  estimate  that  I have  seen 
placed  the  killed  at  twelve,  the  seriously  wounded  at 
thirty-five  and  the  arrested  at  one  thousand.  Following 
the  occurrence,  Guadalajara  was  filled  with  state  and 
national  troops.  General  Ignacio  Bravo,  notorious  as  the 
most  ruthless  officer  in  the  Mexican  army,  was  hurried 
from  Quintana  Roo  temporarily  to  replace  the  exist- 
ing head  of  the  military  zone;  and,  finally,  all  political 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 


181 


expression  of  the  Democrats  was  put  down  with  an 
iron  hand. 

Among  the  prominent  leaders  of  the  Democratic 
movement  in  Guadalajara  who  were  made  to  suffer  at 
this  time  was  Ambrosio  Ulloa,  an  engineer  and  lawyer, 
founder  of  a school  for  engineers,  and  head  of  the 
Corona  Flour  Milling  Company.  Ulloa  happened  to  be 
president  of  the  Reyes  club  of  Guadalajara,  and,  on  the 
theory  that  the  club  was  in  some  way  responsible  for 
the  so-called  student  riot,  Ulloa,  a week  after  the  occur- 
rence, was  taken  to  jail  and  imprisoned  under  a charge 
of  “sedition.” 

During  the  putting  down  of  the  student  movement 
in  Guadalajara  at  least  one  case  of  the  ley  fuga  was 
reported  from  that  city.  The  victim  was  William  de  la 
Pena,  a former  student  of  Christian  Brothers’  College, 
St.  Louis,  Mo.,  also  of  the  Ohio  State  University.  The 
case  was  reported  in  the  St.  Louis  papers,  from  which 
place  a dispatch  was  sent  out  through  the  Associated 
Press.  Relating  the  occurrence,  the  press  dispatch  said : 

“He  (Pena)  was  at  his  country  home,  when  an  officer  of  the 
Rurales  invited  him  to  go  with  him.  He  mounted  his  horse  and 
went.  Next  day  servants  found  his  body,  riddled  with  bullets.” 

September  7th  Congressman  Heriberto  Barron,  who 
had  mildly  criticized  Diaz  in  an  open  letter,  fled  from 
the  country  and  took  up  his  residence  in  New  York. 
One  Mexican  paper  has  it  that  agents  of  the  Diaz 
secret  police  forced  Barron  upon  a Ward  liner  at  Vera- 
cruz and  compelled  him  to  leave  the  country.  In  New 
York  newspapers  Barron  declared  that  he  had  fled  to 
escape  imprisonment.  A few  months  later  he  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  return  home,  but  was  told  that  he  must 
remain  an  exile  until  the  death  of  the  president  of  Mex- 
ico. The  heinousness  of  Barron’s  crime  may  be  gath- 


182 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


ered  from  the  following  paragraphs,  the  most  uncompli- 
mentary in  his  open  letter  to  Diaz: 

“At  the  velada  to  which  I have  alluded,  when  your  name  was 
pronounced  by  the  orators,  it  was  received  with  unanimous 
hisses  and  marks  of  disapproval. 

“On  the  night  of  the  performance  given  at  the  Principal 
theatre  in  aid  of  the  Guerrero  victims,  the  entire  audience  main- 
tained a sinister  silence  on  your  arrival.  The  same  silence  pre- 
vailed when  you  departed. 

“If  you  had  occasion,  as  I have,  to  mingle  with  the  gather- 
ings and  groups  of  people  of  different  classes,  not  all  Reyists, 
you  would  hear,  Mr.  President,  expressions  of  indignation 
against  you  spoken  openly  on  all  sides.” 

Within  ten  days  after  the  banishment  of  Barron,  a 
foreign  resident,  Frederick  Palmer  by  name,  an  English- 
man, was  lodged  in  Belem  prison,  denied  bail,  held  in- 
communicado for  some  days,  and  finally  was  sentenced 
to  one  month’s  imprisonment — for  doing  nothing  worse 
than  remarking  that  he  thought  Diaz  had  been  president 
of  Mexico  long  enough. 

July  28th  Celso  Cortez,  vice-president  of  the  Central 
Club  Reyista  of  Mexico  City,  was  lodged  in  Belem 
prison  for  making  a speech  at  the  club  rooms  criticizing 
members  of  the  Diaz  cabinet. 

Following  came  a long  list  of  arrests  of  members  of 
the  Democratic  movement  throughout  the  country.  Usu- 
ally the  charge  was  “sedition,”  but  never  was  any  evi- 
dence produced  to  prove  sedition  as  Americans  under- 
stand that  term.  In  this  movement  there  was  never 
any  hint  of  armed  rebellion  or  any  concerted  violation 
of  existing  laws.  In  all  of  these  cases  I have  yet  to 
learn  of  any  in  which  reasonable  ground  for  the  arrest 
existed.  In  many  cases  the  victims  were  kept  in  jail 
for  months,  and  in  some  cases  they  were  sentenced  to 
long  terms  in  prison.  The  number  persecuted  in  this 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  183 

way  is  problematical,  as  reports  of  only  the  more  promi- 
nent cases  got  into  the  Mexican  press.  The  following 
are  a few  of  those  recorded: 

In  August  Jose  Ignacio  Rebollar,  secretary  of  the  Club 
Reyista  of  Torreon,  with  several  others,  was  arrested 
for  appearing  at  a serenade  given  to  the  governor  of  the 
state  and  attempting  to  proselyte  for  Reyes. 

On  August  1,  1909,  a company  of  ruralcs  broke  up 
a meeting  of  Reyistas  in  Silao  and  placed  a number 
of  them  in  jail. 

In  November,  1909,  Manuel  Martinez  de  Arrendodo, 
a wealthy  planter;  his  nephew,  Francisco  de  Arrendodo; 
four  attorneys,  Pedro  Reguera,  Antonio  Juarez,  Enrique 
Recio  and  Juan  Barrera,  also  Marcos  Valencia,  Amado 
Cardenas,  Francisco  Vidal  and  other  were  sent  to  jail 
for  attempting  to  hold  a Reyist  meeting  in  Merida, 
Yucatan.  Several  of  the  number  were  kept  in  jail  for 
more  than  six  months. 

In  January,  1910,  Attorney  Francisco  Perera  Escobar, 
a member  of  the  legislature  in  the  state  of  Campeche, 
was  arrested  for  distributing  bills  announcing  a meeting 
of  Reyists. 

December  7,  1909,  Jose  Lopez  Portillo  y Rojas,  a 
prominent  Reyist  of  the  capital,  was  imprisoned  in 
Belem  on  a trumped  up  charge.  Some  months  later  it 
was  reported  that  he  was  still  there  and  that  he  was 
to  be  sentenced  to  nine  years’  imprisonment. 

January  26,  1910,  some  Democrats  held  a public  meet- 
ing in  the  Alameda,  Mexico  City.  Dr.  Manuel  Espinosa 
de  Los  Monteros,  president  of  the  Central  Club  Reyista, 
presided,  and  Don  Enrique  Garcia  de  la  Cadena  y 
Ancona  delivered  a patriotic  address.  The  police  broke 
up  the  meeting  and  arrested  Cadena  and  Monteros, 
charging  them  with  sedition.  At  this  writing  it  is  re- 


184 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


ported  that  both  of  them  will  be  sent  for  long  terms 
to  the  penal  colony  on  the  Tres  Marias  Islands  in  the 
Pacific. 

During  the  months  following  the  attempt  to  place  a 
candidate  in  the  field  against  Vice-President  Corral  the 
Democrats  tried  to  strengthen  their  position  by  contest- 
ing some  state  and  local  “elections.”  As  a result  there 
were  many  arrests  and  several  massacres  by  troops  or 
local  authorities. 

At  Petape,  Oaxaca,  the  Twenty-fifth  battalion  of  regu- 
lars fired  on  a crowd  of  the  opposition,  killing  several. 
Seventy  were  jailed. 

At  Tepames,  Colima,  there  were  many  shootings. 
After  the  jail  was  full,  the  authorities  are  reported  as 
having  taken  out  some  of  the  prisoners,  compelled  them 
to  dig  their  own  graves,  then  shot  them  so  that  they  fell 
into  the  trenches. 

At  Tehuitzingo,  Puebla,  in  April,  it  was  reported  that 
sixteen  citizens  were  executed  without  trial,  and  that 
many  others  had  been  condemned  to  twenty  years’  con- 
finement in  the  fortress  of  San  Juan  de  Ulua. 

In  Merida,  Yucatan,  federal  troops  were  placed  in 
the  polling  booths  and  large  numbers  of  Democrats 
were  arrested. 

In  the  state  of  Morelos,  in  February,  1909,  the  Demo- 
crats attempted  to  elect  Patricio  Leyva  in  opposition  to 
Pablo  Escandon,  a slave-holding  Spaniard  whom  Diaz 
had  selected  for  the  place.  For  accepting  the  Demo- 
cratic candidacy  Leyva  was  dismissed  from  his  govern- 
ment position  as  Inspector  of  Irrigation  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Fomento.  The  president  and  vice-president 
of  the  Free  Suffrage  Club  at  Jojutla  and  the  officers  of 
a similar  club  at  Tiaquiltenango,  as  well  as  many  others, 
were  jailed  on  charges  of  sedition,  while  the  authorties 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  185 

were  reported  as  having  killed  several.  Police  placed 
in  possession  of  the  polls  prevented  many  from  voting, 
and  finally  the  vote  as  actually  cast  was  falsified  in  favor 
of  Escandon,  who  became  governor. 

In  July,  1909,  many  arrests  occurred  at  Puerte,  Si- 
naloa, and  the  town  was  filled  with  federal  rurales.  In 
January,  1910,  sixteen  men  arrested  some  time  before 
on  suspicion  of  being  in  a plot  against  the  government 
at  Viesca,  were  sentenced  to  be  shot,  the  supreme  court 
sitting  at  the  capital  pronouncing  the  decree. 

While  such  incidents  were  going  on  the  press  situa- 
tion was  being  manipulated,  also.  The  government 
bought  or  subsidized  newspapers,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
suppressed  them  on  the  other.  Some  thirty  or  forty 
daily  and  weekly  publications  espoused  the  Democratic 
cause.  I do  not  know  of  one  of  them  which  the  govern- 
ment did  not  compel  to  suspend  operations.  Despite 
the  fact  that  they  were  careful  of  their  utterances,  they 
were  put  out  of  business,  the  majority  of  them  by  im- 
prisonment of  their  editors,  seizure  of  their  printing 
plants,  or  both. 

April  16,  1909,  Antonio  Duch,  editor  of  Tierra,  of 
Merida,  was  escorted  aboard  a steamer  at  Veracruz  by 
the  Mexican  secret  police  and  compelled  to  leave  the 
country  under  the  charge  of  being  a “pernicious  for- 
eigner.” His  paper  was  suppressed. 

July  15,  1909,  Francisco  Navarro,  editor  of  La  Lib- 
ertad,  organ  of  the  Club  Democratico  of  Guadalajara, 
was  jailed  for  criticizing  the  sabreing  of  Reyist  students. 
His  paper  was  stopped,  his  office  closed,  a gendarme  was 
placed  on  guard  and  it  was  officially  announced  that  were 
an  attempt  made  to  issue  the  paper  from  another  shop, 
it,  also,  would  be  closed. 

August  3,  1909,  Feliz  Vera,  correspondent  of  demo- 


186 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


cratic  papers  at  Guadalajara,  was  taken  to  Belem  prison, 
where  he  remains  at  this  writing,  though  so  far  no 
formal  charge  has  been  filed  against  him. 

In  October,  1909,  Manuel  M.  Oviedo,  editor  of  La 
Hoja  Sueha  and  president  of  the  Anti-re-electionist 
Club  of  Torreon,  was  sent  to  prison  and  his  paper  was 
suppressed.  Action  was  taken  because  Oviedo  asked 
for  a fair  state  election  following  the  forced  retirement 
of  Governor  Cardenas. 

In  November,  1909,  Martin  Stecker,  a native  of  Ger- 
many, editor  of  El  Trueno,  Linares,  Nuevo  Leon,  was 
jailed  on  a charge  of  “defamation”  and  his  newspaper 
was  suppressed.  Stecker  was  only  a very  mild  Reyist. 
The  real  reason  for  his  arrest  was  that  Linares  is  a 
good  newspaper  field  and  members  of  the  Diaz  machine 
wished  the  sole  privilege  of  exploiting  it.  Just  previous 
to  the  suppression  of  El  Trueno  Governor  Reyes  had 
been  banished  from  the  country  and  his  friends  put  out 
of  the  municipal  government  at  Linares. 

In  November,  1909,  Revista  de  Merida,  of  Merida, 
Yucatan,  was  suppressed  by  the  government.  Editor 
Menendez  and  other  writers  were  imprisoned  on  the 
charge  of  sedition. 

About  the  same  time  two  other  Merida  newspapers 
were  suppressed.  One  was  Yucatan  Nuevo.  Its  edi- 
tors, Fernando  M.  Estrada  and  Ramon  Peovide,  are 
at  this  writing  still  in  jail.  The  other  was  La  Defensa 
Nacional.  Its  editors,  Calixto  M.  Maldonada  and 
Caesar  A.  Gonzalez,  were  charged  with  “provocation  of 
rebellion.”  The  evidence  produced  in  court  against  them 
consisted  of  copies  of  a circular  sent  out  by  the  National 
Anti-re-electionist  Club,  which  they  were  passing  among 
their  friends. 

In  February,  1910,  Heriberto  Frias,  editor  of  El 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  187 

Correo  de  la  Tarde,  was  driven  out  of  Mazatlan  be- 
cause he  published  the  statement  that  in  the  so-called 
election  in  Sinaloa  boys  of  ten  and  twelve  were  permitted 
to  vote  the  administration  ticket,  while  men  of  forty 
and  fifty  of  the  opposition  party  were  turned  away  on 
the  ground  that  they  were  too  young  to  vote. 

In  October,  1909,  Alfonso  B.  Peniche,  editor  of  La 
Redencion,  Mexico  City,  was  arrested  for  “defamation” 
of  a minor  employe  of  the  government.  Despite  his 
imprisonment,  Peniche  succeeded  in  continuing  his  pub- 
lication for  a time,  although  in  order  to  do  so  he  was 
compelled  to  smuggle  his  copy  through  the  bars  of  the 
prison.  After  remaining  in  Belem  a short  time  he  pub- 
lished an  article  asking  for  an  investigation  into  the  con- 
ditions of  Belem,  alleging  that  an  instrument  of  torture 
called  “the  rattler”  was  used  upon  the  prisoners.  This 
undoubtedly  had  something  to  do  with  the  extreme 
severity  of  the  punishment  that  was  meted  out  to 
Peniche,  for  after  remaining  five  months  in  Belem  he 
was  sentenced  to  banishment  to  the  penal  colony  on  the 
Tres  Marias  Islands  for  four  long  years. 

Undoubtedly  the  charge  against  Peniche  was  only  a 
subterfuge  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  The  story  of 
his  “defamation,”  according  to  Mexico  Nuevo,  the  most 
conservative  democratic  daily,  was: 

In  his  paper  Redencion,  now  suspended,  he  published  a state- 
ment signed  by  various  merchants,  making  charges  against  a 
tax  collector  of  the  federal  district,  relating  to  acts  committed 
in  his  official  capacity.  The  Bureau  of  Taxation  took  action 
in  the  matter,  ordering  an  investigation,  and,  as  a result,  the 
charges  were  sustained  and  the  tax  collector  was  removed  by  the 
Secretary  of  Hacienda,  with  the  approval  of  the  President  of 
the  Republic,  for  “not  deserving  the  confidence  of  the  govern- 
ment;” moreover,  he  was  arraigned  before  the  first  judge  of  the 
district,  for  an  inquiry  into  the  supposed  fraud  of  the  treasury, 
and  this  inquiry  is  now  pending. 


188 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


This  being  the  case,  there  were  many  reasons  to  suppose  that 
Peniche,  in  publishing  the  accusation,  was  working  in  the  public 
interest  and  was  not  committing  any  crime.  Instead  of  this,  he 
is  convicted  of  defamation,  an  even  more  serious  offense  than 
libel. 

El  Diario  del  Hogar,  an  old  and  conservative  daily 
paper  of  the  capital,  which  has  espoused  the  cause  of 
the  Democrats,  printed  an  account  of  Peniche’s  banish- 
ment also,  the  article  appearing  under  the  caption 
“Newspaper  Men  Watch  Out.”  The  authorities  at  once 
forced  the  suspension  of  the  paper.  The  owner,  Filomena 
Mata,  an  aged  man  who  had  retired  from  active  life; 
Filomena  Mata,  Jr.,  managing  editor,  and  the  mechanical 
foreman,  were  taken  to  prison.  A month  afterwards 
it  was  reported  that  father  and  son  were  still  in  jail 
and  that  Mata,  Sr.,  was  dying  of  ill  treatment  received 
from  the  jailers. 

Some  time  later,  in  March,  1910,  the  government 
forced  the  suspension  of  Mexico  Nuevo.  It  was  revived 
later,  however,  and  is  the  only  Democratic  paper  which 
survived  the  Reyes  campaign. 

Paulino  Martinez  was  one  of  the  oldest  and  best- 
known  newspaper  men  in  Mexico.  His  papers  were 
the  only  ones  in  opposition  to  the  policy  of  the  admin- 
istration which  succeeded  in  weathering  the  storm  of 
press  persecutions  of  past  years.  For  several  years  his 
papers,  La  Voz  de  Juarez  and  El  Insurgente,  were  the 
only  opposition  papers  in  Mexico.  Martinez  kept  them 
alive,  so  he  told  me  himself,  by  refraining  always  from 
making  direct  criticisms  of  high  officials  or  acts  of  Gen- 
eral Diaz. 

But  with  the  campaign  against  the  Democratic  move- 
ment Martinez’s  papers  went  with  the  rest.  When  the 
government  began  action  against  him  his  papers  num- 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  189 

tiered  four,  La  Voz  de  Juarez,  El  Insurgente,  El  Chi- 
naco, all  weeklies,  and  El  Anti-Re-electionista,  a daily. 
All  were  published  in  the  capital. 

The  first  blow  fell  upon  La  Voz  de  Juarez  (The  Voice 
of  Juarez).  August  3,  1909,  that  paper  was  suppressed 
and  the  plant  confiscated.  “Slandering  the  army,”  was 
the  charge.  The  police  looked  for  Martinez,  but  failed 
to  find  him.  All  minor  employes  found  about  the  shop 
were  jailed,  and  it  was  announced  that  the  plant  would 
be  sold. 

September  3rd  the  secret  police  descended  upon  El 
Insurgente  and  El  Chinaco,  also  upon  El  Paladin,  a 
weekly  paper  published  by  Ramon  Alvarez  Soto.  The 
type  forms  of  all  three  publications  were  seized  and 
taken  to  the  offices  of  the  secret  police  as  “pieces  de 
conviction.”  Soto,  Joaquin  Pina,  Martinez’s  managing 
editor  of  El  Chinaco,  Joaquin  Fernando  Bustillos,  an- 
other editor,  five  printers,  two  other  employes  and  Mrs. 
Martinez,  were  taken  to  jail.  After  five  days  the  report- 
ers and  printers  were  released.  But  Mrs.  Martinez  and 
Enrique  Patino,  a member  of  El  Paladin  staff,  who  had 
been  apprehended  later,  were  held  on  charges  of  sedi- 
tion. 

El  Anti-Re-electionista,  the  last  of  the  Martinez  papers, 
succumbed  September  28th.  The  office  was  closed,  the 
plant  seized  and  sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  court,  and 
twenty-two  employes  found  about  the  office  were  all 
taken  prisoner  and  charged  with  sedition.  The  list  con- 
sisted of  three  members  of  the  office  executive  force, 
one  reporter,  fifteen  typesetters  and  three  bindery  girls. 

How  long  these  twenty-two  remained  in  prison  is  not 
recorded.  Six  months  later  I saw  a report  that  at  least 
one  of  the  Martinez  editors,  D.  Feliz  Palavicini,  was 
still  in  prison.  Mrs.  Martinez  remained  in  jail  for  sev- 


190 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


eral  months.  Her  husband  succeeded  in  escaping  to 
the  United  States,  and  when  Mrs.  Martinez  joined  him 
neither  of  them  had  a dollar.  Mrs.  Martinez,  by  the 
way,  is  a native  of  the  United  States. 

Most  remarkable  of  all  was  the  treatment  meted  out 
to  the  nominee  of  the  Democratic  Party,  General  Ber- 
nardo Reyes,  governor  of  the  state  of  Nuevo  Leon. 
Doubly,  trebly  remarkable  was  that  treatment  in  view  oi 
the  fact  that  General  Reyes  not  only  did  not  accept 
the  nomination  of  the  Democratic  Party,  but  that  he 
repudiated  it.  Four  times  he  repudiated  it.  Not  only 
that,  but  during  the  months  in  which  calamities  were 
being  heaped  upon  him  and  his  friends  he  never  gave 
utterance  to  one  word  or  raised  his  little  finger  in  the 
most  insignificant  act  that  might  be  construed  as  an 
offense  to  President  Diaz,  to  Vice-President  Corral,  or 
to  any  of  the  members  of  the  Diaz  government.  By  its 
military  bluster  the  government  tried  to  create  the  im- 
pression that  Reyes  was  on  the  verge  of  an  armed  revolt, 
but  of  that  there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence. 

As  a candidate,  General  Reyes  did  not  perfectly  fit 
the  ideal  of  the  leaders  of  the  Democratic  movement, 
for  he  had  never  before  appeared  in  any  way  as  a 
champion  of  democratic  principles.  Doubtless  the 
Democrats  chose  him,  as  a government  organ  charged, 
because  of  their  belief  in  his  “ability  to  face  the  music.” 
Reyes  was  a strong  figure,  and  it  requires  a strong  figure 
to  rally  the  people  when  their  fears  are  strong.  It  was 
for  this  reason  that  the  Democratic  leaders  pinned  their 
faith  to  him,  and  they  launched  their  campaign  on  the 
assumption  that  when  he  discovered  that  the  people  were 
almost  unanimous  for  him,  he  would  accept  the  nomina- 
tion. 

In  this  the  Democrats  were  mistaken.  Reyes  chose 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 


191 


not  to  face  the  music.  Four  times  he  repudiated  the 
nomination  publicly.  He  retired  to  his  mountain  resort 
and  there  waited  for  the  storm  to  blow  over.  He  put 
himself  out  of  touch  with  his  partizans  and  with  the 
world.  He  made  no  move  that  might  give  offense  to 
the  government. 

And  yet — what  happened  to  Reyes? 

Diaz  deposed  the  head  of  the  military  zone,  which 
includes  the  state  of  Monterey,  and  placed  in  command 
General  Trevino,  a personal  enemy  of  Reyes.  Trevino 
marched  upon  Reyes’  state  at  the  head  of  an  army.  He 
stopped  on  his  way  at  Saltillo  and,  by  a display  of  arms, 
compelled  the  resignation  of  Governor  Cardenas  of 
Coahuila  merely  because  the  latter  was  a friend  of  Reyes. 
He  threw  his  army  into  Monterey  and  overturned  the 
local  government,  as  well  as  all  the  municipal  govern- 
ments in  the  entire  state.  Diaz  ordered  a fine  of  a third 
of  a million  dollars  placed  upon  Reyes’  financial  asso- 
ciates, in  order  that  they,  as  well  as  he,  might  be  dealt 
a crushing  blow  financially.  Trevino  surrounded  Reyes 
in  his  mountain  resort  and  compelled  him  to  return,  a 
virtual  prisoner,  and  to  hand  in  his  resignation.  Finally, 
Reyes  was  sent  out  of  the  country,  ostensibly  on  a “mili- 
tary mission’’  to  Europe — actually,  banished  from  his 
native  country  for  two  years,  or  longer,  should  the  ruler 
so  decide. 

So  perished  Reyism,  as  the  government  papers  de- 
risively  called  the  opposition.  The  Democratic  move- 
ment was  demoralized  for  the  time  being,  and  the  gov- 
ernment doubtless  imagined  that  the  end  of  Reyes  meant 
the  end  of  the  Democratic  movement. 

But  not  so.  The  democratic  ambitions  of  the  peo- 
ple had  been  aroused  to  a high  pitch,  and  they  would  not 
be  denied.  Instead  of  intimidating  them,  the  banish- 


192 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


ment  of  Reyes  and  the  high-handed  acts  that  went  be- 
fore it  only  served  to  make  the  people  bolder  in  their 
demands.  From  daring  to  nominate  a candidate  merely 
for  vice-president,  they  passed  to  nominating  a candi- 
date for  president.  The  pseudo  opposition  party  became 
an  opposition  party  indeed. 

In  Francisco  I.  Madero,  the  party  found  its  new 
leader.  Madero  was  a distinguished  citizen  of  Coahuila, 
a member  of  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respected  fami- 
lies in  Mexico.  The  Maderos  had  never  involved  them- 
selves in  Diaz  politics;  they  were  rich  farmers,  well 
educated,  cultured  and  progressive.  Madero’s  first 
notable  interest  in  democracy  was  shown  in  his  book, 
‘‘La  Sucesion  Presidencial,”  which  he  published  in  1908. 
It  was  a thoughtful  but  mild  criticism  of  the  Diaz 
regime,  and  in  the  end  it  urged  the  people  to  insist  upon 
the  right  to  engage  in  the  elections  of  1910. 

Madero’s  book  is  said  to  have  been  suppressed  in 
Mexico,  but  only  after  it  had  gained  wide  circulation, 
and  its  influence  was  no  doubt  considerable  in  prompt- 
ing the  launching  of  the  Democratic  Party.  After  the 
nomination  of  Reyes,  Madero  went  about  the  country 
in  his  own  private  car,  addressing  public  meetings,  not 
campaigning  for  Reyes,  but  confining  himself  chiefly  to 
the  dissemination  of  the  A,  B,  C’s  of  popular  govern- 
ment. 

The  banishment  of  Reyes  did  not  stop  Madero’s 
speech-making,  and  before  the  end  of  1909  it  was 
announced  that  the  Democratic  and  Reyist  clubs  would 
reorganize  as  “Anti-Re-electionist”  clubs,  and  that  a 
national  convention  would  be  held  at  which  the  Anti- 
Re-electionist  Party  would  be  organized  and  nomina- 
tions made  for  president  and  vice-president  of  the  re- 
public. 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ 


193 


The  convention  was  held  in  the  middle  of  April,  1910; 
Madero  was  named  for  president  and  Dr.  Francisco 
Vasquez  Gomez  for  vice-president.  The  scattered  ele- 
ments of  the  interrupted  campaign  were  got  together  and 
Madero  and  such  others  of  the  Democratic  leaders  as 
were  out  of  jail  went  on  with  their  speech-making — 
careful,  as  ever,  to  criticize  but  sparingly  and  to  encour- 
age no  breaches  of  the  peace. 

The  result  was  instantaneous.  The  nation  was  again 
in  a fervor  of  enthusiasm  over  the  idea  of  actually  exer- 
cising their  constitutional  right  of  franchise.  Had  the 
movement  been  small,  it  would  have  been  allowed  to 
go  its  way  and  spend  itself.  But  the  movement  was 
tremendous.  It  put  on  a parade  in  the  national  capital 
such  as  Diaz,  with  all  his  powers  of  coercion  and  of 
hire,  had  never  been  able  to  equal  in  his  own  behalf. 
Every  marcher  in  that  parade  knew  that  in  walking 
with  that  throng  he  was  laying  himself  liable  to  perse- 
cution, to  ruin,  perhaps  to  death,  but  yet  so  great  was 
the  throng  that  the  government  organs  themselves  were 
forced  to  admit  that  the  parade  was  a triumph  for  the 
“Maderists,”  as  the  Democrats  were  now  called. 

Before  the  convention  and  during  the  convention  the 
Diaz  press  pooh-poohed  Madero,  his  program  and  his 
party  as  too  insignificent  to  be  noticed.  But  before  the 
delegates  had  returned  to  their  homes  the  movement 
had  assumed  such  grave  proportions  that  the  govern- 
ment proceeded  against  it  as  it  had  proceeded  against 
the  “Reyists”  before  the  banishment  of  Reyes.  Every- 
where members  of  Anti-Re-electionist  clubs  were  thrown 
into  jail;  such  progressive  newspapers  as  remained 
and  dared  to  espouse  the  Democratic  cause  were  sup- 
pressed, and  the  police  power  was  used  to  break  up  the 
clubs,  stop  public  meetings  and  prevent  receptions  being 


194 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


accorded  the  party’s  candidates  as  they  traveled  through 
the  country. 

So  severe  was  this  persecution  that,  May  21st,  Attor- 
ney Roque  Estrada,  one  of  the  most  prominent  of  the 
Anti-Re-electionist  speakers,  addressed  an  open  letter  to 
Diaz,  begging  him  to  interfere  in  behalf  of  constitutional 
rights.  This  was  followed  by  a letter  from  Madero  him- 
self, couched  in  a similar  vein.  In  recounting  some  of 
the  outrages  which  had  been  heaped  upon  his  friends, 
Estrada  said  in  part: 

“When  the  delegate  of  Cananea,  Sonora,  returned  to  his 
home,  he  was  imprisoned,  just  as  were  some  presidents  of  clubs; 
in  Alamos,  Sonora,  independent  citizens  were  arrested,  and  a 
journalist  and  his  family  were  martyred;  in  Torreon,  Coahuila, 
in  Monterey,  and  in  Orizaba  the  rights  of  association  and 
reunion  have  been  impudently  violated;  finally,  in  the  tormented 
City  of  Puebla,  immediately  after  the  visit  which  the  candidates 
of  the  people  made  on  the  14th  and  15th  of  the  current  month, 
an  epoch  of  terror  was  begun,  capable  of  destroying  the  repu- 
tation of  the  most  sane  and  solid  administration.  In  the  City 
of  Zaragoza  many  independent  citizens  were  confined  in  prison, 
others  were  consigned  to  the  army,  as  in  the  case  of  Senor 
Diaz  Duran,  president  of  an  Anti-Re-electionist  club;  and  others 
have  felt  the  necessity  of  abandoning  their  homes  in  order  to 
escape  the  fury  of  authority.” 

Some  of  the  outrages  recounted  in  Madero’s  letter 
follow : 

“At  Coahuila  the  public  officials  have  arbitrarily  forbidden 
demonstrations  in  our  honor,  preventing  also  the  spread  of  our 
principles.  The  same  has  happened  in  the  states  of  Nuevo  Leon, 
Aguascalientes  and  San  Luis  Potosi.  * * * In  the  States  of 
Sonora  and  Puebla  the  conditions  are  serious.  In  the  former 
state  an  independent  journalist,  Mr.  Caesar  del  Vando,  was 
thrown  into  jail.  * * * At  Cananea  the  prosecutions  are 
extreme  against  the  members  of  my  party,  and  according  to  late 
news  received  therefrom  more  than  thirty  individuals  have  been 
imprisoned,  among  them  the  full  board  of  directors  of  the 


EIGHTH  UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  OF  DIAZ  195 

Club  Anti-Re-electionista  de  Obreros  (workers),  three  of  whom 
were  forcibly  enlisted  in  the  army. 

“At  Puebla,  Atlixco  and  Tlaxcala,  where  untold  outrages 
have  been  committed  against  my  followers,  reigns  intense  excite- 
ment. The  last  news  received  shows  the  conditions  of  the 
working  classes  to  be  desperate;  that  they  may  at  any  moment 
resort  to  violent  means  to  have  their  rights  respected.” 

In  June,  the  month  of  election,  matters  became  very 
much  worse.  Estrada  and  Madero  themselves  were 
arrested.  On  the  night  of  June  6 they  were  secretly 
taken  and  secretly  held  in  the  penitentiary  at  Monterey 
until  the  truth  became  noised  about,  when  charges  were 
formally  preferred  against  them.  Estrada  was  charged 
with  “sedition.”  Madero  was  first  accused  of  protect- 
ing Estrada  from  arrest,  but  soon  afterwards  this  charge 
was  dropped  and  he  was  accused  of  “insulting  the 
nation.”  He  was  removed  from  the  penitentiary  of 
Nuevo  Leon  to  the  penitentiary  of  San  Luis  Potosi,  and 
here  he  remained  incommunicado  until  after  “election.” 

The  presidential  campaign  ended  amid  many  reports 
of  government  persecutions.  A reputable  dispatch  dated 
June  9th  said  that  in  breaking  up  a gathering  at  Saltillo, 
following  the  news  of  the  arrest  of  Madero,  the  police 
rode  down  the  crowds,  injuring  more  than  two  hundred 
people.  Another,  dated  June  14th,  said  that  in  the  cities 
of  Torreon,  Saltillo  and  Monterey  more  than  one  hun- 
dred persons  were  arrested  on  the  charge  of  “insulting” 
the  government ; that  at  Ciudad  Porfirio  Diaz  forty-seven 
prominent  citizens  were  arrested  in  one  day,  and  that 
a big  exodus  of  citizens  of  the  border  towns,  fearing 
arrest,  was  taking  place  to  the  United  States.  Still 
another  dispatch,  dated  June  21st,  said  that  more  than 
four  hundred  arrests  had  been  made  in  northern  Mexico 
the  previous  day  and  that  1,000  political  prisoners  were 


196 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


being  held  incommunicado,  where  they  would  remain 
until  after  the  election. 

“Election  day”  found  soldiers  or  rurales  in  every 
town  and  hamlet.  Booths  were  actually  put  up  here  and 
there  and  a farce  of  an  election  was  gone  through  with. 
Soldiers  held  the  polls  and  every  man  who  dared  cast  a 
ballot  for  any  but  the  administration  ticket  knew  that  he 
was  risking  imprisonment,  confiscation  of  property,  even 
death,  in  doing  so.  Finally,  the  government  went 
through  the  form  of  counting  the  vote,  and  in  due  course 
of  time  the  world  was  told  that  the  Mexican  people  had 
proved  “practically  unanimous”  in  their  choice  of  Dia? 
and  Corral. 


CHAPTER  XI 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 

On  the  line  of  the  Mexican  Railway,  which  climbs,  in 
one  hundred  odd  miles  of  travel,  from  the  port  of  Vera- 
cruz 10,000  feet  to  the  rim  of  the  valley  of  Mexico,  are 
situated  a number  of  mill  towns.  Nearing  the  summit, 
after  that  wonderful  ascent  from  the  tropics  to  the  snows, 
the  passenger  looks  back  from  his  car  window  through 
dizzying  reaches  of  empty  air,  sheer  a full  mile,  as  the 
crow  might  dare  to  fly  a score  of  them,  down  to  the 
uppermost  of  these  mill  towns,  Santa  Rosa,  a gray 
checkerboard  upon  a map  of  green.  Just  below  Santa 
Rosa,  but  out  of  sight  behind  the  titanic  shoulder  of  a 
mountain,  nestles  Rio  Blanco,  largest  of  the  mill  towns, 
scene  of  the  bloodiest  strike  in  the  labor  history  of 
Mexico. 

In  altitude  half  way  between  the  shark-infested  waters 
of  Veracruz  harbor  and  the  plateau  of  the  Montezumas, 
Rio  Blanco,  which  in  Spanish  means  White  River,  is 
not  only  a paradise  in  climate  and  scenery,  but  it  is  also 
perfectly  situated  for  water-power  manufactories.  A 
bountiful  supply  of  water,  provided  by  the  copious  rains 
and  the  snows  of  the  heights,  gathers  in  the  Rio  Blanco 
and  with  the  speed  of  Niagara  rushes  down  the  mountain 
gorges  and  into  the  town. 

It  is  said  to  be  a favorite  boast  of  Manager  Harting- 
ton,  the  steel-eyed,  middle-aged  Englishman  who  over- 
sees the  work  of  the  6,000  men,  women  and  children, 
that  the  mill  at  Rio  Blanco  is  not  only  the  largest  and 


198 


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most  modern  cotton  manufactory  in  the  world,  but  that 
it  pays  the  richest  profits  on  the  investment. 

Certainly  the  factory  is  a big  one.  We  saw  it — De 
Lara  and  I — from  A to  Z,  following  the  raw  cotton  from 
the  cleaner  through  all  its  various  processes  and  treat- 
ments until  it  finally  came  out  neatly  folded  in  fancy 
prints  or  specially  colored  weaves.  We  even  descended 
five  iron  ladders  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  saw 
the  great  pin  and  caught  a glimpse  of  the  swirling  black 
waters  which  turn  every  wheel  in  the  mill.  And  we 
observed  the  workers,  too,  men,  women  and  children. 

They  were  Mexicans  with  hardly  an  exception.  The 
men,  in  the  mass,  are  paid  thirty-seven  and  one-half 
cents  a day  in  our  money,  the  women  from  one  dollar 
and  a half  to  two  dollars  a week,  the  children,  who  range 
down  to  seven  and  eight,  from  ten  to  twenty-five  cents 
a day.  These  figures  were  given  us  by  an  officer  of  the 
mill  who  showed  us  about,  and  they  were  confirmed  in 
talks  with  the  workers  themselves. 

Thirteen  hours  a day — from  6 until  8 — are  long  for 
labor  in  the  open  air  and  sunshine,  but  thirteen  hours 
in  that  roar  of  machinery,  in  that  lint-laden  air,  in  thost 
poisonous  dye  rooms — how  very  long  that  must  be ! The 
terrible  smell  of  the  dye  rooms  nauseated  me  and  I had 
to  hurry  on.  The  dye  rooms  are  a suicide  hole  for  the 
men  who  work  there,  for  it  is  said  that  they  survive,  on 
an  average,  only  a twelve-month.  Yet  the  company  finds 
that  plenty  of  them  are  willing  to  commit  the  suicide 
for  the  additional  inducement  of  seven  and  one-half 
cents  a day  over  the  regular  wage. 

The  Rio  Blanco  mill  was  established  sixteen  years  ago 
— sixteen  years,  but  in  their  history  the  mill  and  the 
town  have  just  two  epochs — before  the  strike  and  after 
the  strike.  Wherever  we  went  about  Rio  Blanco  and 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


199 


Orizaba,  the  latter  being  the  chief  town  in  that  political 
district,  we  heard  echoes  of  the  strike,  although  its  bloody 
story  had  been  written  nearly  two  years  before  our  visit. 

In  Mexico  there  are  no  labor  laws  in  operation  to 
protect  the  workers — no  provision  for  factory  inspection, 
no  practical  statutes  against  infant  labor,  no  processes 
through  which  workmen  may  recover  damages  for  in- 
juries sustained  or  death  met  in  the  mine  or  at  the 
machine.  Wage-workers  literally  have  no  rights  that  the 
employers  are  bound  to  respect.  Policy  only  determines 
the  degree  of  exploitation,  and  in  Mexico  that  policy  is 
such  as  might  prevail  in  the  driving  of  horses  in  a lo- 
cality where  horses  are  dirt  cheap,  where  profits  from 
their  use  are  high,  and  where  there  exists  no  Society 
for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals. 

Over  against  this  absence  of  protection  on  the  part 
of  the  governmental  powers  stands  oppression  on  the 
part  of  the  governmental  powers,  for  the  machinery  of 
the  Diaz  state  is  wholly  at  the  command  of  the  employer 
to  whip  the  worker  into  accepting  his  terms. 

The  six  thousand  laborers  in  the  Rio  Blanco  mill  were 
not  content  with  thirteen  hours  daily  in  the  company  of 
that  roaring  machinery  and  in  that  choking  atmosphere, 
especially  since  it  brought  to  them  only  from  twenty-five 
to  thirty-seven  and  one-half  cents.  Nor  were  they  con- 
tent with  paying  out  of  such  a sum  the  one  American 
dollar  a week  that  the  company  charged  for  the  rental 
of  the  two-room,  dirt-floor  hovels  which  they  called 
their  homes.  Least  of  all  were  they  content  with  the 
coin  in  which  they  were  paid.  This  consisted  of  credit 
checks  upon  the  company  store,  which  finished  the  ex- 
ploitation— took  back  for  the  company  the  final  centavo 
that  the  company  had  paid  out  in  wages.  A few  miles 
away,  at  Orizaba,  the  same  goods  could  be  purchased 


200 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


for  from  twenty-five  to  seventy-five  per  cent  less,  but 
the  operatives  were  unable  to  buy  their  goods  at  these 
stores. 

The  operatives  were  not  content.  The  might  of  the 
company  towered  like  a mountain  above  them,  and 
behind  and  above  the  company  towered  the  government. 
Behind  the  company  stood  Diaz  himself,  for  Diaz  was 
not  only  the  government,  he  was  also  a heavy  stockholder 
in  the  company.  Yet  the  operatives  prepared  to  fight. 
Secretly  they  organized  a union,  “El  Circulo  de 
Obreros,”  which  means  “The  Circle  of  Workers,”  hold- 
ing their  meetings  not  en  masse,  but  in  small  groups 
in  their  homes,  in  order  that  the  authorities  might  not 
learn  of  their  purposes. 

Immediately  upon  the  company  learning  that  the  work- 
ers were  discussing  their  troubles  it  took  action  against 
them.  Through  the  police  authorities  it  issued  a general 
order  forbidding  any  of  the  operatives  from  receiving 
any  visitors  whatsoever,  even  their  own  relatives  being 
barred,  the  penalty  for  violation  being  the  city  jail.  Per- 
sons who  were  suspected  of  having  signed  the  roll  of  the 
union  were  put  in  prison  at  once,  and  a weekly  news- 
paper which  was  known  to  be  friendly  to  the  workers 
was  swooped  down  upon,  suppressed  and  the  printing 
plant  confiscated. 

At  this  juncture  a strike  was  called  in  the  cotton  mills 
in  the  city  of  Puebla,  in  an  adjoining  state.  The  mills 
of  Puebla  were  owned  by  the  same  company  as  owned 
the  Rio  Blanco  mills,  and  the  operatives  thereof  were 
living  under  similar  conditions  to  those  at  Rio  Blanco. 
The  Puebla  workers  went  on  strike  and  the  company, 
knowing  that  they  had  no  resources  behind  them,  de- 
cided, as  one  of  its  agents  told  me,  “to  let  nature  take 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


201 


its  course;”  that  is,  to  starve  out  the  workers,  as  they 
believed  this  process  could  be  accomplished  inside  of  a 
fortnight. 

The  strikers  turned  for  aid  to  those  of  their  fellow- 
craftsmen  who  were  at  work  in  other  localities.  The 
Rio  Blanco  workers  themselves  were  already  preparing  to 
strike,  but  thereupon  they  decided  to  wait  for  a time 
longer,  in  order  that  they  might  collect  from  their  meager 
earnings  a fund  to  support  their  brothers  in  the  city  of 
Puebla.  Thus  were  the  ends  of  the  company  defeated 
for  the  moment,  for  by  living  on  half  rations  both  work- 
ers and  strikers  were  able  to  eke  out  their  existence. 
But  no  sooner  had  the  company  learned  the  source  of 
strength  of  the  Puebla  strikers  than  the  mills  at  Rio 
Blanco  were  shut  down  and  the  workers  there  locked 
out.  Other  mills  in  other  localities  were  shut  down  and 
other  means  taken  to  prevent  any  help  reaching  the 
Puebla  strikers. 

Locked  out,  the  Rio  Blanco  workers  promptly  as- 
sumed the  offensive,  declared  they  were  on  strike  and 
formulated  a series  of  demands  calculated  in  some  meas- 
ure to  alleviate  the  conditions  of  their  lives. 

But  the  demands  were  unheard,  the  machinery  of  the 
mill  roared  no  more,  the  mill  slept  in  the  sun,  the  waters 
of  the  Rio  Blanco  dashed  unharnessed  through  the  town, 
the  manager  of  the  company  laughed  in  the  faces  of  the 
striking  men  and  women. 

The  six  thousand  starved.  For  two  months  they 
starved.  They  scoured  the  surrounding  hills  for  ber- 
ries, and  when  the  berries  were  gone  they  deceived  their 
gnawing  stomachs  with  indigestible  roots  and  herbs 
gleaned  from  the  mountain  sides.  In  utter  despair,  they 
looked  to  the  highest  power  they  knew,  Porfirio  Diaz, 


202 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


and  begged  him  to  have  mercy.  They  begged  him  to 
investigate  their  cause,  and  for  their  part  they  promised 
to  abide  by  his  decision. 

President  Diaz  pretended  to  investigate.  He  ren- 
dered a decision,  hut  his  decision  was  that  the  mills 
should  reopen  and  the  workers  go  back  to  their  thirteen 
hours  of  dust  and  machinery  on  the  same  terms  as  they 
had  left  them. 

True  to  their  promise,  the  strikers  at  Rio  Blanco 
prepared  to  comply.  But  they  were  weak  from  starva- 
tion. In  order  to  work  they  must  have  sustenance.  Con- 
sequently on  the  day  of  their  surrender  they  gathered  in 
a body  in  front  of  the  company  store  opposite  the  big 
mill  and  asked  that  each  of  their  number  be  given  a 
certain  quantity  of  corn  and  beans  so  that  they  might 
be  able  to  live  through  the  first  week  and  until  they  should 
be  paid  their  wages. 

The  storekeeper  jeered  at  the  request.  “To  these  dogs 
we  will  not  even  give  water!”  is  the  answer  he  is  cred- 
ited with  giving  them. 

It  was  then  that  a woman,  Margarita  Martinez,  ex- 
horted the  people  to  take  by  force  the  provisions  that 
had  been  denied  them.  This  they  did.  They  looted  the 
store,  then  set  fire  to  it,  and  finally  to  the  mill  across 
fhe  way. 

The  people  had  not  expected  to  riot,  but  the  govern- 
ment had  expected  it.  Unknown  to  the  strikers,  bat- 
talions of  regular  soldiers  were  waiting  just  outside  the 
town,  under  command  of  General  Rosalio  Martinez  him- 
self, sub-secretary  of  war.  The  strikers  had  no  arms. 
They  were  not  prepared  for  revolution.  They  had  in- 
tended no  mischief,  and  their  outburst  was  a spontaneous 
and  doubtless  a natural  one,  and  one  which  an  officer 
of  the  company  afterwards  confided  to  me  could  easily 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


203 


have  been  taken  care  of  by  the  local  police  force,  which 
was  strong. 

Nevertheless,  the  soldiers  appeared,  leaping  upon  the 
scene  as  if  out  of  the  ground.  Volley  after  volley  was 
discharged  into  the  crowd  at  close  range.  There  was 
no  resistance  whatsoever.  The  people  were  shot  down 
in  the  streets  with  no  regard  for  age  or  sex,  many  wom- 
en and  children  being  among  the  slain.  They  were  pur- 
sued to  their  homes,  dragged  from  their  hiding  places 
and  shot  to  death.  Some  fled  to  the  hills,  where  they 
were  hunted  for  days  and  shot  on  sight.  A company 
of  rural  guards  which  refused  to  fire  on  the  crowd  when 
the  soldiers  first  arrived  were  exterminated  on  the  spot. 

There  are  no  official  figures  of  the  number  killed  in 
the  Rio  Blanco  massacre,  and  if  there  were  any,  of 
course  they  would  be  false.  Estimates  run  from  two 
hundred  to  eight  hundred.  My  information  for  the 
Rio  Blanco  strike  was  obtained  from  numerous  widely 
different  sources — from  an  officer  of  the  company  itself, 
from  a friend  of  the  governor  who  rode  with  the  ruralcs 
as  they  chased  the  fleeing  strikers  through  the  hills,  from 
a labor  editor  who  escaped  after  being  hotly  pursued 
for  days,  from  survivors  of  the  strike,  from  others  who 
had  heard  the  story  from  eye  witnesses. 

“I  don’t  know  how  many  were  killed,”  the  man  who 
rode  with  the  ruralcs  told  me,  “but  on  the  first  night 
after  the  soldiers  came  I saw  tzuo  flat  cars  piled  high  with 
dead  and  mangled  bodies,  and  there  were  a good  many 
killed  after  the  first  night.” 

“Those  flat  cars,”  the  same  informant  told  me,  “were 
hauled  away  by  special  train  that  night,  hurried  to 
Veracruz,  where  the  bodies  were  dumped  in  the  harbor 
as  food  for  the  sharks.” 

Strikers  who  were  not  punished  by  death  were  pun- 


204 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


ishecl  in  other  ways  scarcely  less  terrible.  It  seems  that 
for  the  first  few  hours  death  was  dealt  out  indiscrimi- 
nately, but  after  that  some  of  those  who  were  caught 
were  not  killed.  Fugitives  who  were  captured  after  the 
first  two  or  three  days  were  rounded  up  in  a bull  pen, 
and  some  five  hundred  of  them  were  impressed  into 
the  army  and  sent  to  Quintana  Roo.  The  vice-president 
and  the  secretary  of  the  “Circulo  de  Obreros”  were 
hanged,  while  the  woman  orator,  Margarita  Martinez, 
was  among  those  sent  to  the  prison  of  San  Juan  de 
Ulua. 

Among  the  newspaper  men  who  suffered  as  a result 
of  the  Rio  Blanco  strike  are  Jose  Neira,  Justino  Fer- 
nandez, Juan  Olivares  and  Paulino  Martinez.  Neira 
and  Fernandez  were  imprisoned  for  long  terms,  the  lat- 
ter being  tortured  until  he  lost  his  reason.  Olivares 
was  pursued  for  many  days,  but  escaped  capture  and 
found  his  way  to  the  United  States.  None  of  the  three 
had  any  connection  with  the  riot.  The  fourth,  Paulino 
Martinez,  committed  no  crime  more  heinous  than  to 
comment  mildly  in  his  newspaper  in  favor  of  the  strik- 
ers. Fie  published  his  paper  at  Mexico  City,  a day’s 
ride  on  the  train  to  Rio  Blanco.  Personally  he  had  been 
no  nearer  the  scene  of  the  trouble  than  that  city,  yet  he 
was  arrested,  carried  over  the  mountains  to  the  mill 
town,  imprisoned  and  held  incommunicado  for  five 
months  without  even  a charge  being  preferred  against 
him. 

The  government  made  every  effort  to  conceal  the  facts 
of  the  Rio  Blanco  massacre,  but  murder  will  out,  and 
when  the  newspapers  did  not  speak  the  news  flew  from 
mouth  to  mouth  until  the  nation  was  shuddering  at  the 
story.  It  was  a waste  of  blood,  indeed,  yet,  even  from 
the  viewpoint  of  the  workers,  it  was  not  wholly  in  vain. 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


205 


For  in  the  story  the  company  store  held  a prominent 
place,  and  so  great  a protest  was  raised  against  it  that 
President  Diaz  decided  to  make  one  concession  to  the 
decimated  band  of  operatives  and  to  abolish  the  company 
store  at  Rio  Blanco. 

Thus  where  before  the  strike  there  was  but  one  store 
in  Rio  Blanco,  today  there  are  many;  the  workers  buy 
where  they  choose.  Thus  it  would  seem  that  by  their 
starvation  and  their  blood  the  strikers  had  won  a slight 
victory,  but  it  is  a question  whether  this  is  so,  since  in 
some  ways  the  screws  have  been  put  down  harder  than 
ever  before.  Provision  has  been  made  against  a repeti- 
tion of  the  strike,  provision  that,  for  a country  that 
claims  to  be  a republic,  is,  to  speak  mildly,  astounding. 

The  provision  consists,  first,  of  eight  hundred  Mex- 
ican troops — six  hundred  regular  soldiers  and  two  hun- 
dred rurales — who  are  encamped  upon  the  company 
property;  second,  of  a jcfc  politico  clothed  with  the 
powers  of  a cannibal  chief 

When  we  visited  the  barracks,  De  Lara  and  I,  the 
little  captain  who  showed  us  about  informed  us  that 
the  quarters  were  furnished,  ground,  house,  light  and 
water,  by  the  company,  and  that  in  return  the  army  was 
placed  directly  and  unequivocally  at  the  call  of  the  com- 
pany. 

As  to  the  jefe  politico,  his  name  is  Miguel  Gomez,  and 
he  was  promoted  to  Rio  Blanco  from  Cordoba,  where 
his  readiness  to  kill  is  said  to  have  provoked  the  admira- 
tion of  the  man  who  appointed  him,  President  Diaz. 
Regarding  the  powers  of  Miguel  Gomez,  I can  hardly 
do  better  than  to  quote  the  words  of  an  officer  of  the 
company,  with  whom  De  Lara  and  I took  dinner  one 
day: 

“Miguel  Gomez  has  orders  direct  from  President  Diaz 


206 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


to  censor  the  reading  of  the  mill  workers  and  to  allow 
no  radical  newspapers  or  Liberal  literature  to  get  into 
their  hands.  More  than  that,  he  has  orders  to  kill  any- 
one whom  he  suspects  of  having  evil  intentions.  Yes, 
I said  kill.  It  is  carte  blanche  with  Gomez,  and  no  qces*. 
tions  asked.  He  asks  no  one’s  advice  and  no  cor.*t  ?It£ 
on  his  action,  either  before  or  after.  And  he  dt,j:  frill! 
If  he  sees  a man  on  the  street  and  gets  any  wbycsical 
suspicion  of  him,  dislikes  his  dress  or  his  fa ro;  it  is 
enough.  That  man  disappears.  I remember  ? laborer 
in  the  dye-mixing  room  who  spoke  some  words  friendly 
to  Liberalism ; I remember  a spool  tender  who  n .entioned 
strike ; there  have  been  others — many  others.  They 
have  disappeared  suddenly,  have  been  swallowed  up  and 
nothing  heard  of  them  but  the  whispers  of  their 
friends !” 

Of  course,  it  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things  to 
verify  this  statement,  but  it  is  worth  noting  that  it  does 
not  come  from  a revolutionist. 

The  trade  unionists  of  Mexico  are,  of  course,  by  far 
the  best  paid  workers  in  the  country.  Because  of  the 
opposition  of  both  employers  and  government,  as  well 
as  the  deep  degradation  out  of  which  it  is  necessary  for 
the  Mexican  to  climb  before  he  is  able  to  pluck  the  fruits 
of  organization,  unionism  is  still  in  its  infancy  in  Mexico. 
It  is  still  in  its  swaddling  clothes  and,  under  the  circum- 
stances as  they  exist  today,  its  growth  is  slow  and 
fraught  with  great  hardship.  So  far,  there  is  no  Mex- 
ican Federation  of  Labor. 

The  principal  Mexican  unions  in  1908,  as  set  forth 
to  me  by  Felix  Vera,  president  of  the  Grand  League  of 
Railroad  Workers,  and  other  organizers,  were  as  fol- 
lows : 

The  Grand  League  of  Railroad  Workers,  10,000  mem- 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


20/ 


bers;  the  Mechanics’  Union,  500  members;  Boilermak- 
ers’ Union,  800  members;  Cigarmakers’  Union,  1,500 
members;  Carpenters’  Union,  1,500  members;  the  Shop 
Blacksmiths’  Union,  with  headquarters  at  Ciudad  Por- 
firio  Diaz,  800  members;  Steel  and  Smelter  Workers’ 
Union,  of  Chihuahua,  500  members. 

These  are  the  only  permanent  Mexican  unions,  and 
an  addition  of  their  membership  shows  that  they  total 
under  16,000.  Other  unions  have  sprung  up,  as  at  Rio 
Blanco,  at  Cananea,  at  Tizapan  and  other  places  in  re- 
sponse to  a pressing  need,  but  they  have  been  crushed 
either  by  the  employers  or  by  the  government — usually 
by  both  working  in  conjunction,  the  latter  acting  as  the 
servant  of  the  former.  In  the  two  years  since  1908  there 
has  been  practically  no  advance  in  organization.  Indeed, 
for  a time  the  largest  union,  the  railroad  workers,  hav- 
ing been  beaten  in  a strike,  all  but  went  out  of  existence. 
But  recently  it  has  revived  to  almost  its  former  strength. 

All  the  unions  mentioned  are  Mexican  unions  exclu- 
sively. The  only  branch  of  American  organization 
which  extends  to  Mexico  consists  of  railroad  men,  who 
exclude  Mexicans  from  membership.  Hence  the  Grand 
League  itself  is  a purely  Mexican  union. 

As  to  pay,  the  boilermakers  received  a minimum  of 
27p2  cents  an  hour  in  American  money;  the  carpenters, 
who  are  organized  only  in  the  capital  and  have  as  yet 
no  scale,  from  75  cents  to  $1.75;  the  cigarmakers,  from 
$1.75  to  $2;  the  shop  blacksmiths,  2iy2  cents  an  hour, 
and  the  steel  and  smelter  workers,  25  cents  an  hour. 

Among  these  trades  there  have  been  several  strikes. 
In  1905  the  cigarmakers  enforced  their  own  shop  rules. 
A little  later  the  union  mechanics  in  the  railroad  shops 
at  Aguascalientes  struck  because  they  were  being  gradu- 
ally replaced  by  Hungarian  unorganized  men  at  lower 


208 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


wages.  The  strikers  not  only  won  their  point,  but  se- 
cured a five-cent  per  day  raise  of  wages  besides,  which 
so  encouraged  the  boilermakers  that  the  latter  crafts- 
men made  a demand  all  over  the  country  for  a five-cent 
raise  and  got  it. 

Besides  several  short  strikes  of  less  importance  still, 
this  is  the  extent  of  the  labor  victories  in  Mexico.  Vic- 
tory has  been  the  exception.  Intervention  by  the  gov- 
ernment, with  blood  and  prison  for  the  strikers,  has  been 
the  rule. 

The  strike  of  the  Grand  League  of  Railway  Work- 
ers occurred  in  the  spring  of  1908.  The  league  consists 
principally  of  brakemen,  who  received  $37.50  per  month 
in  American  money,  and  shop  mechanics,  who  received 
twenty-five  cents  an  hour.  Early  in  1908  the  bosses  at 
San  Luis  Potosi  began  discriminating  against  union  men, 
both  in  the  shops  and  on  the  trains.  The  unions  pro- 
tested to  General  Manager  Clark,  and  the  latter  promised 
to  make  reparation  within  two  months.  At  the  end  of 
two  months  nothing  had  been  done.  The  union  then 
gave  the  manager  twenty-four  hours  in  which  to  act. 
At  the  end  of  twenty-four  hours  still  nothing  had  been 
done.  So  the  entire  membership  on  the  road,  consisting 
of  3,000  men,  walked  out. 

The  strike  tied  up  every  foot  of  the  Mexican  National 
Railway,  consisting  of  nearly  one  thousand  miles  of  road 
running  from  Laredo,  Texas,  to  Mexico  City.  For  six 
days  traffic  was  at  a standstill.  Recognition  of  the  union, 
which  is  the  necessary  prerequisite  for  successful  peace 
in  any  struggle  along  union  lines,  seemed  assured.  The 
great  corporation  seemed  beaten,  but — the  men  had  not 
reckoned  with  the  government. 

No  sooner  did  Manager  Clark  discover  that  he  was 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


209 


beaten  on  the  economic  field  of  battle  than  he  called 
to  his  aid  the  police  power  of  Diaz. 

President  Vera  of  the  Grand  League  was  waited  upon 
by  the  governor  of  the  state  of  San  Luis  Potosi  and 
informed  that  if  the  men  did  not  return  to  work  forth- 
with they  would  all  be  rounded  up  and  thrown  in  jail 
and  prosecuted  for  conspiracy  against  the  government. 
Pie  showed  Vera  a telegram  from  President  Diaz  which 
in  significant  terms  reminded  Vera  of  the  massacre  at 
Rio  Blanco,  which  had  occurred  but  a year  previously. 

Vera  hurried  to  the  national  capital,  where  he  inter- 
viewed Vice-President  Corral  and  attempted  to  secure 
an  audience  with  Diaz.  Corral  confirmed  the  threats  of 
the  governor  of  San  Luis  Potosi.  Vera  pleaded  that  the 
strikers  were  keeping  perfect  order;  he  begged  that 
they  be  fairly  treated.  But  it  was  no  use.  He  knew  that 
the  government  was  not  bluffing,  for  in  such  matters 
the  Mexican  government  does  not  bluff.  After  a con- 
ference with  the  executive  board  of  the  union  the  strike 
was  called  off  and  the  men  went  back  to  work. 

Of  course  that  demoralized  the  union,  for  what,  pray, 
is  the  use  of  organization  if  you  are  not  permitted  to 
pluck  the  fruits  of  organization?  The  strikers  were 
taken  back  to  work,  as  agreed,  but  they  were  discharged 
one  after  another  at  convenient  times.  The  member- 
ship of  the  league  fell  off,  those  remaining  upon  the  roll 
remaining  only  in  the  hope  of  a less  tyrannical  govern- 
ment soon  replacing  the  one  that  had  foiled  them.  Vera 
resigned  the  presidency.  His  resignation  was  refused, 
he  still  remained  the  nominal  head  of  the  organization, 
but  there  was  nothing  that  he  could  do.  It  was  at  this 
juncture  that  I met  and  talked  with  him  about  the  railroad 
strike  and  the  general  outlook  for  Mexican  unionism. 


210 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“The  oppression  of  the  government,”  said  Vera,  in  his 
last  few  words  to  me,  “is  terrible — terrible ! There  is 
no  chance  for  bettering  the  condition  of  labor  in  Mexico 
until  there  is  a change  in  the  administration.  Every  free 
laborer  in  Mexico  knows  that !” 

Vera  organized  the  Grand  League  of  Railway  Work- 
ers of  Mexico  in  1904,  and  since  that  time  he  has  passed 
many  months  in  prison  for  no  other  reason  than  his 
union  activities.  Not  until  early  in  1909  did  he  engage 
in  anything  that  smacked  of  political  agitation.  The 
hardships  imposed  by  the  government  upon  union  organ- 
ization, however,  inevitably  drove  him  into  opposition 
to  it.  He  became  a newspaper  correspondent,  and  it 
was  because  he  dared  to  criticize  the  despot  that  he  again 
found  his  way  into  that  awful  pit,  Belem. 

August  3,  1909,  Vera  was  arrested  at  Guadalajara  and 
carried  to  Mexico  City.  He  was  not  taken  before  a 
judge.  Nor  was  any  formal  charge  lodged  against  him. 
He  was  merely  told  that  the  federal  government  had 
decided  that  he  must  spend  the  next  two  years  in  prison, 
serving  out  a sentence  which  had  four  years  previously 
been  meted  out  to  him  for  his  union  activities,  but  under 
which  he  had  been  pardoned  after  serving  one  year  and 
seven  months. 

Though  a permanent  cripple,  Vera  is  a brave  and  hon- 
est man  and  a fervent  organizer.  Mexican  liberty  will 
lose  much  by  his  imprisonment. 

Strikes  in  Mexico  so  far  have  usually  been  more  the 
result  of  a spontaneous  unwillingness  on  the  part  of  the 
workers  to  go  on  with  their  miserable  lives  than  of  an 
organization  of  labor  behind  them  or  an  appeal  by  agi- 
tators. Such  a strike  was  that  of  Tizapan. 

I mention  the  strike  of  Tizapan  because  I happened 
to  visit  the  spot  while  the  strikers  were  starving.  For 


KOtTR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


211 


a month  the  strike  had  been  going  on,  and  though  600 
cotton  mill  operatives  were  involved  and  Tizapan  was 
only  a score  of  miles  from  the  palace  of  Chapultepec, 
not  a daily  newspaper  in  the  capital,  as  far  as  I have 
learned,  mentioned  the  fact  that  there  was  a strike. 

I first  heard  of  the  Tizapan  strike  from  Paulino  Mar- 
tinez, the  editor,  who  is  now  a political  refugee  in  the 
United  States.  Martinez  cautioned  me  against  saying 
that  he  told  me,  since,  though  he  had  not  heard  of  the 
strike  himself  until  after  it  had  been  called,  he  thought 
the  telling  might  result  in  his  arrest.  The  next  day  I 
took  a run  out  to  Tizapan,  viewed  the  silent  mill,  visited 
the  strikers  in  their  squalid  homes,  and  finally  had  a talk 
with  the  strike  committee. 

Except  for  Valle  Nacional,  I never  saw  so  many 
people — men,  women  and  children — with  the  mark  of 
acute  starvation  on  their  faces,  as  at  Tizapan.  True, 
there  was  no  fever  among  them,  their  eyes  were  not 
glazing  with  complete  exhaustion  from  overwork  and 
insufficient  sleep,  but  their  cheeks  were  pale,  they 
breathed  feebly  and  they  walked  unsteadily  from  lack  of 
food. 

These  people  had  been  working  eleven  hours  a day  for 
wages  running  from  fifty  cents  to  three  dollars  a week 
in  our  money.  Doubtless  they  would  have  continued  to 
work  for  it  if  they  were  really  paid  it,  but  the  bosses 
were  always  devising  new  means  to  rob  them  of  what 
little  they  were  entitled  to.  Dirt  spots  on  the  calico 
meant  a loss  of  one,  two  and  sometimes  even  three  pesos. 
Petty  fines  were  innumerable.  Finally,  each  worker  was 
taxed  three  centavos  per  week  to  pay  for  the  food  of 
the  dogs  belonging  to  the  factory.  That  was  the  last 
straw.  The  toilers  refused  to  accept  partial  wages,  the 
mill  was  closed  and  the  period  of  starvation  began. 


21 2 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


When  I visited  Tizapan  three-fourths  of  the  men 
had  gone  away  seeking  work  and  food  in  other  parts. 
Being  wholly  without  means,  it  is  quite  likely  that  a 
large  percentage  of  them  fell  into  the  hands  of  labor 
agents  and  were  sold  into  slavery  in  the  hot  lands.  A 
few  men  and  the  women  and  children  were  staying  and 
starving.  The  strike  committee  had  begged  the  national 
government  to  redress  their  wrongs,  but  without  avail. 
They  had  asked  President  Diaz  to  reserve  for  them  a 
little  land  out  of  the  millions  of  acres  which  he  was  con- 
stantly signing  away  to  foreigners,  but  they  had  received 
from  him  no  reply.  When  I asked  them  if  they  hoped 
to  win  the  strike,  they  told  me  no,  that  they  had  no  hope, 
but  they  did  not  care ; they  preferred  to  die  at  once  and 
in  the  open  air  than  to  go  back  to  such  miserable  treat- 
ment as  had  been  accorded  them  in  the  factory.  Here  is 
a translation  of  a pitiful  appeal  which  these  Tizapan 
strikers  sent  out  to  mill  centers  in  other  sections  of  the 
country : 

Fellow  Countrymen: 

By  this  circular  we  make  known  to  all  the  workers  of  the 
Mexican  Republic  that  none  of  the  factories  which  exist  in 
our  unfortunate  country  have  exhibited  men  so  avaricious  as 
the  manufacturers  of  “La  Hormiga,”  Tizapan,  since  they  are 
worse  than  highway  robbers;  not  only  are  they  robbers,  but  they 
are  tyrants  and  hangmen. 

Let  us  make  it  plain  to  you.  Here  are  we  robbed  in  weights 
and  measures.  Here  are  we  exploited  without  mercy.  Here  are 
we  fined  two  and  three  pesos  and  down  to  the  very  last  of  our 
wages,  and  we  are  dismissed  from  our  work  with  kicks  and 
blows.  But  what  is  the  most  disgusting,  ridiculous  and  vile  part 
of  it  all  is  the  discount  that  is  made  on  the  workers  of  three 
cents  weekly  for  the  maintenance  of  the  lazy  dogs  of  the  factory. 
What  a disgrace! 

Who  can  live  such  a sad  and  degraded  life?  Whereupon  it 
does  not  appear  that  we  live  in  a republic  conquered  by  the 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


213 


blood  of  our  forefathers,  but  rather  that  we  inhabit  a land  of 
savage  and  brutal  slave-drivers.  Who  can  subsist  on  wages  of 
three  and  four  pesos  weekly  and  discounted  from  that  fines, 
house  rent,  and  robbery  in  weights  and  measures?  No,  a 
thousand  times,  no ! Because  of  such  circumstances  we  petition 
our  dear  country  for  a fragment  of  land  to  cultivate,  so  that 
we  may  not  continue  to  enrich  the  foreigner,  trader  and 
exploiter,  who  piles  up  gold  at  the  cost  of  the  devoted  toil  of 
the  poor  and  unfortunate  worker! 

We  protest  against  this  order  of  things  and  we  will  not  work 
until  we  are  guaranteed  that  the  fines  will  be  abolished  and 
also  the  maintenance  of  dogs,  for  which  we  ought  not  to  pay, 
and  that  we  shall  be  treated  as  workers  and  not  as  the  unhappy 
slaves  of  a foreigner. 

We  hope  that  our  fellow  workers  will  aid  us  in  this  fight. 

The  Committee. 

Tizapan,  March  7,  1909. 

The  Tizapan  strike  was  lost.  When  it  was  ready  to 
do  so,  the  company  reopened  the  mill  without  difficulty, 
for,  as  corporation  prospectuses  of  the  country  say, 
there  is  labor  aplenty  in  Mexico  and  it  is  very,  very 
cheap. 

The  Cananea  strike,  occurring  as  it  did,  very  close 
to  the  border  line  of  the  United  States,  is  perhaps  the  one 
Mexican  strike  of  which  Americans  generally  have  heard. 
Not  having  been  a witness,  nor  even  having  ever  been 
upon  the  ground,  I cannot  speak  with  personal  authority, 
and  yet  I have  talked  with  so  many  persons  who  were 
in  one  way  or  another  connected  with  the  affair,  several 
of  whom  were  in  the  very  thick  of  the  flying  bullets, 
that  I cannot  but  believe  that  I have  a fairly  clear  idea 
of  what  occurred. 

Cananea  is  a copper  city  of  Sonora,  situated  several 
score  of  miles  from  the  Arizona  border.  It  wras  estab- 
lished by  W.  C.  Greene,  who  secured  several  million 
acres  along  the  border  from  the  Mexican  government 


214 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


at  little  or  no  cost,  and  who  succeeded  in  forming  such 
intimate  relations  with  Ramon  Corral  and  other  high 
Mexican  officials  that  the  municipal  government  estab- 
lished upon  his  property  was  entirely  under  his  control, 
while  the  government  of  the  Mexican  town  close  beside 
it  was  exceedingly  friendly  to  him  and  practically  under 
his  orders.  The  American  consul  at  Cananea,  a man 
named  Galbraith,  was  also  an  employe  of  Greene,  so 
that  both  the  Mexican  and  United  States  governments, 
as  far  as  Cananea  and  its  vicinity  was  concerned,  were 
— W.  C.  Greene. 

Greene,  having  since  fallen  into  disrepute  with  the 
powers  that  be  in  Mexico,  has  lost  most  of  his  holdings 
and  the  Greene-Cananea  Copper  Company  is  now  the 
property  of  the  Cole-Ryan  mining  combination,  one  of 
the  parties  in  the  Morgan-Guggenheim  copper  merger. 

In  the  copper  mines  of  Cananea  were  employed  six 
thousand  Mexican  miners  and  about  six  hundred  Amer- 
ican miners.  Greene  paid  the  Mexican  miners  just  half 
as  much  as  he  paid  the  American  miners,  not  because 
they  performed  only  half  as  much  labor,  but  because 
he  was  able  to  secure  them  for  that  price.  The  Mexicans 
were  getting  big  pay,  for  Mexicans — three  pesos  a day, 
most  of  them.  But  naturally  they  were  dissatisfied  and 
formed  an  organization  for  the  purpose  of  forcing  a 
better  bargain  out  of  Greene. 

As  to  what  precipitated  the  strike  there  is  some  dis- 
pute. Some  say  that  it  was  due  to  an  announcement 
by  a mine  boss  that  the  company  had  decided  to  super- 
sede the  system  of  wage  labor  with  the  system  of  con- 
tract labor.  Others  say  it  was  precipitated  by  Greene’s 
telegraphing  to  Diaz  for  troops,  following  a demand  of 
the  miners  for  five  pesos  a day. 

But  whatever  the  immediate  cause,  the  walkout  was 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


215 


started  by  a night  shift  May  31,  1906.  The  strikers 
marched  about  the  company’s  property,  calling  out  the 
men  in  the  different  departments.  They  met  with  suc- 
cess at  all  points,  and  trouble  began  only  at  the  last 
place  of  call,  the  company  lumber  yard,  where  the  parade 
arrived  early  in  the  forenoon.  Here  the  manager,  a 
man  named  Metcalfe,  drenched  the  front  ranks  with 
water  from  a large  hose.  The  strikers  replied  with  stones, 
and  Metcalfe  and  his  brother  came  back  with  rifles. 
Some  strikers  fell,  and  in  the  ensuing  battle  the  two 
Metcalfes  were  killed. 

During  the  parade,  the  head  of  the  Greene  detective 
squad,  a man  named  Rowan,  handed  out  rifles  and 
ammunition  to  the  heads  of  departments  of  the  com- 
pany, and  as  soon  as  the  fight  started  at  the  lumber  yard 
the  company  detective  force  embarked  in  automobiles 
and  drove  about  town,  shooting  right  and  left.  The 
miners,  unarmed,  dispersed,  but  they  were  shot  as  they 
ran.  One  of  the  leaders,  applying  to  the  chief  of  police 
for  arms  with  which  the  miners  might  protect  them- 
selves, was  terribly  beaten  by  the  latter,  who  put  his 
entire  force  at  the  service  of  the  company.  During  the 
first  few  hours  after  the  trouble  some  of  the  Greene 
men  were  put  in  jail,  but  very  soon  they  were  released 
and  hundreds  of  the  miners  were  locked  up.  Finding 
that  no  justice  was  to  be  given  them,  the  bulk  of  the 
miners  retired  to  a point  on  the  company’s  property, 
where  they  barricaded  themselves  and,  with  what 
weapons  they  could  secure,  defied  the  Greene  police. 

From  Greene’s  telegraph  office  were  sent  out  reports 
that  the  Mexicans  had  started  a race  war  and  were  mas- 
sacring the  Americans  of  Cananea,  including  the  women 
and  children.  Consul  Galbraith  sent  out  such  inflam- 
matory stories  to  Washington  that  there  was  a flurry 


216 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


in  our  War  Department;  these  stories  were  so  mislead- 
ing that  Galbraith  was  removed  as  soon  as  the  real  facts 
became  known. 

The  agent  of  the  Department  of  Fomento  of  Mexico, 
on  the  other  hand,  reported  the  facts  as  they  were,  and 
through  the  influence  of  the  company  he  was  discharged 
at  once. 

Colonel  Greene  hurried  away  on  his  private  car  to 
Arizona,  where  he  called  for  volunteers  to  go  to  Can- 
anea  and  save  the  American  women  and  children,  offer- 
ing one  hundred  dollars  for  each  volunteer,  whether  he 
fought  or  not.  Which  action  was  wholly  without  valid 
excuse,  since  the  strikers  not  only  never  assumed  the 
aggressive  in  the  violent  acts  of  Cananea,  but  the  affair 
was  also  in  no  sense  an  anti-foreign  demonstration.  It 
was  a labor  strike,  pure  and  simple,  a strike  in  which 
the  one  demand  was  for  a raise  of  wages  to  five  pesos 
a day. 

While  the  false  tales  sent  out  from  Greene’s  town 
were  furnishing  a sensation  for  the  United  States, 
Greene’s  Pinkertons  were  sent  about  the  streets  for  an- 
other shoot-up  of  the  Mexicans.  Americans  had  been 
warned  to  stay  indoors,  in  order  that  the  assassins  might 
take  pot  shots  at  anything  in  sight,  which  they  did.  The 
total  list  of  killed  by  the  Greene  men — which  was  pub- 
lished at  the  time — was  twenty-seven,  among  whom  were 
several  who  were  not  miners  at  all.  Among  these,  it 
is  said,  was  a boy  of  six  and  an  aged  man  over  ninety, 
who  was  tending  a cow  when  the  bullet  struck  him. 

By  grossly  misrepresenting  the  situation,  Greene  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  a force  of  three  hundred  Americans, 
rangers,  miners,  stockmen,  cowboys  and  others,  together 
in  Bisbee,  Douglas  and  other  towns.  Governor  Yzabal 
of  Sonora,  playing  directly  into  the  hands  of  Greene  at 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


217 


every  point,  met  this  force  of  men  at  Naco  and  led  them 
across  the  line.  The  crossing  was  disputed  by  the  Mex- 
ican customs  official,  who  swore  that  the  invaders  might 
pass  only  over  his  dead  body.  With  leveled  rifle  this 
man  faced  the  governor  of  his  state  and  the  three  hun- 
dred foreigners,  and  refused  to  yield  until  Yzabal  showed 
an  order  signed  by  General  Diaz  permitting  the  inva- 
sion. 

Thus  three  hundred  American  citizens,  some  of  them 
government  employes,  on  June  2,  1906,  violated  the  laws 
of  the  United  States,  the  same  laws  that  Magon  and 
his  friends  are  accused  of  merely  conspiring  to  violate, 
and  yet  not  one  of  them,  not  even  Greene,  the  man  who 
knew  the  situation  and  was  extremely  culpable,  was  ever 
prosecuted.  Moreover,  Ranger  Captain  Rhynning,  who 
accepted  an  appointment  of  Governor  Yzabal  to  com- 
mand this  force  of  Americans,  instead  of  being  deposed 
from  his  position,  was  afterwards  promoted.  At  this 
writing  he  holds  the  fat  job  of  warden  of  the  territorial 
penitentiary  at  Florence,  Arizona. 

The  rank  and  file  of  those  three  hundred  men  were 
hardly  to  be  blamed  for  their  act,  for  Greene  completely 
fooled  them.  They  thought  they  were  invading  Mexico 
to  save  some  American  women  and  children.  When 
they  arrived  in  Cananea  on  the  evening  of  the  second 
day,  they  discovered  that  they  had  been  tricked,  and 
the  following  day  they  returned  without  having  taken 
part  in  the  massacres  of  these  early  days  of  June. 

But  with  the  Mexican  soldiers  and  rurale  forces  which 
poured  into  Cananea  that  same  night  it  was  different. 
They  were  under  the  orders  of  Yzabal,  Greene  and  Cor- 
ral, and  they  killed,  as  they  were  told  to  do.  There 
was  a company  of  cavalry  under  Colonel  Barron.  There 
were  one  thousand  infantrymen  under  General  Luis 


218 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Torres,  who  hurried  all  the  way  from  the  Yaqui  river 
to  serve  the  purposes  of  Greene.  There  were  some  two 
hundred  ruralcs.  There  were  the  Greene  private  detec- 
tives. There  was  a company  of  the  acordada. 

And  all  of  them  took  part  in  the  killing.  Miners  were 
taken  from  the  jail  and  hanged.  Miners  were  taken  to 
the  cemetery,  made  to  dig  their  own  graves  and  were 
shot.  Several  hundred  of  them  were  marched  away  to 
Hermosillo,  where  they  were  impressed  into  the  Mexican 
army.  Others  were  sent  away  to  the  penal  colony  on 
the  islands  of  Tres  Marias.  Finally,  others  were  sen- 
tenced to  long  terms  in  prison.  When  Torres’  army 
arrived,  the  strikers  who  had  barricaded  themselves  in 
the  hills  surrendered  without  any  attempt  at  resistance. 
First,  however,  there  was  a parley,  in  which  the  leaders 
were  assured  that  they  would  not  be  shot.  But  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  they  persuaded  the  strikers  not  to  resist 
the  authorities,  Manuel  M.  Dieguez,  Esteban  E.  Calderon 
and  Manuel  Ibarre,  the  members  of  the  executive  board 
of  the  union,  were  sentenced  to  four  years  in  prison, 
where  they  remain  to  this  day — unless  they  are  dead. 

Among  those  who  were  jailed  and  ordered  shot  was 
L.  Gutierrez  De  Lara,  who  had  committed  no  crime  ex- 
cept to  address  a meeting  of  the  miners.  The  order  for 
the  shooting  of  De  Lara,  as  well  as  for  the  others,  came 
direct  from  Mexico  City  on  representations  from  Gov- 
ernor Yzabal.  De  Lara  had  influential  friends  in  Mex- 
ico, and  these,  getting  word  through  the  friendship  of 
the  telegraph  operator  and  the  postmaster  of  Cananea, 
succeeded  in  securing  De  Lara’s  reprieve. 

The  end  of  the  whole  affair  was  that  the  strikers, 
literally  hacked  to  pieces  by  the  murderous  violence  of 
the  government,  were  unable  to  rally  their  forces.  The 
strike  was  broken.,  and  in  time  the  surviving  miners 


FOUR  MEXICAN  STRIKES 


219 


went  back  to  work  on  more  unsatisfactory  conditions 
than  before. 

Such  is  the  fate  the  Czar  of  Mexico  metes  out  to 
workingmen  who  dare  demand  a larger  share  of  the 
products  of  their  labor  in  his  country.  One  thing  more 
remains  to  be  said.  Colonel  Greene  refused  to  grant 
the  demand  of  the  miners  for  more  wages,  and  he 
claimed  to  have  a good  excuse  for  it. 

“President  Diaz,”  said  Greene,  “has  ordered  me  not 
to  raise  wages,  and  I dare  not  disobey  him.” 

It  is  an  excuse  that  is  being  offered  by  employers  of 
labor  all  over  Mexico.  Doubtless  President  Diaz  did 
issue  some  such  an  order,  and  employers  of  Mexican 
labor,  Americans  with  the  rest  of  them,  are  glad  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  American  capitalists  support  Diaz  with  a 
great  deal  more  unanimity  than  they  support  Taft. 
American  capitalists  support  Diaz  because  they  are  look- 
ing to  Diaz  to  keep  Mexican  labor  always  cheap.  And 
they  are  looking  to  Mexican  cheap  labor  to  help  them 
break  the  back  of  organized  labor  in  the  United  States, 
both  by  transferring  a part  of  their  capital  to  Mexico 
and  by  importing  a part  of  Mexico’s  laborers  into  this 
country. 


CHAPTER  XII 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 

The  first  five  chapters  of  this  book,  which,  in  a little 
less  extended  form,  were  published  serially  in  The 
American  Magazine  in  the  fall  of  1909,  called  forth  a 
considerable  measure  of  comment  both  in  the  United 
States  and  Mexico.  Both  the  magazine  and  myself 
were  deluged  with  letters,  many  of  which  asserted  that 
the  writers  themselves  had  witnessed  conditions  similar 
to  those  which  I described.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
were  many  who  flatly  averred  that  I was  a fabricator 
and  a slanderer,  declaring,  variously,  that  nothing  akin 
to  slavery  or  even  to  peonage  existed  in  Mexico,  that,  if 
it  did,  it  was  the  only  practical  way  to  civilize  Mexico, 
anyhow,  that  the  Mexican  working  people  wTere  the 
happiest  and  most  fortunate  on  the  face  of  the  earth, 
that  President  Diaz  was  the  most  benign  ruler  of  the 
age,  that  a long  enough  hunt  would  discover  cases  of 
barbarities  even  in  the  United  States,  and  we  would 
better  clean  our  own  house  first,  that  there  were  $900,- 
000,000  of  American  capital  invested  in  Mexico — and 
so  on  and  so  on. 

The  remarkable  thing,  indeed,  about  the  discussion 
was  the  headlong  manner  in  which  certain  magazines, 
newspapers,  book  publishers  and  private  individuals  in 
this  country  rushed  to  the  defense  of  President  Diaz. 
These  individuals  evidently  acted  on  the  theory  that  a 
charge  of  slavery  in  his  domain  was  an  aspersion  on 
the  rule  of  President  Diaz,  and  quite  correctly  so.  Where- 
fore, they  proceeded  to  denounce  me  in  the  most  vigor- 
ous terms,  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  let  loose  a flood  of 
adulatory  literature  concerning  President  Diaz,  on  the 


220 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


221 


other.  I imagine  that  it  would  require  a very  long  freight 
train  to  carry  all  the  flattering  literature  that  was  cir- 
culated in  this  country  by  the  friends  of  Diaz  in  the 
six  months  following  the  first  appearance  of  my  articles 
upon  the  news  stands. 

The  perusal  of  those  articles  and  this  other  literature 
also  would  drive  anyone  inevitably  to  the  conclusion 
that  somebody  was  deliberately  distorting  the  truth.  Who 
was  distorting  the  truth?  Who — and  why?  Since  the 
who  as  well  as  the  why  are  peculiarly  a part  of  this  story 
I may  be  pardoned  for  pausing  for  a few  pages  to  reply, 
first,  to  the  question,  “Who?” 

It  would  give  me  pleasure  to  present  here  some  hun- 
dreds of  letters  which,  among  them,  corroborate  many 
times  all  the  essential  features  of  my  account  of  Mex- 
ican slavery.  But  did  I do  so  there  would  be  little  room 
left  in  the  book  for  anything  else.  I can  merely  say 
that  in  most  cases  the  writers  claimed  to  have  spent 
various  numbers  of  years  in  Mexico.  The  letters  were 
unsolicited,  the  writers  were  paid  by  no  one;  in  many 
cases  they  were  endangering  their  own  interests  in  writ- 
ing. If  I am  the  liar,  all  of  these  persons  must  be  liars, 
also,  a proposition  which  I doubt  if  anyone  could  believe 
were  they  to  read  the  letters. 

But  I am  not  printing  these  letters  and  I do  not  ask 
the  reader  to  consider  them  in  my  favor.  Samples  of 
them,  and  a large  enough  number  to  be  convincing,  are 
to  be  found,  however,  in  the  November,  December  and 
January  numbers  of  The  American  Magazine. 

I shall  pass  over,  also,  the  published  testimony  of  other 
writers,  well-known  investigators,  who  have  corrobo- 
rated my  story  in  more  or  less  detail.  For  example, 
the  account  of  the  slavery  of  the  American  rubber  plan- 
tations, written  by  Herman  Whitaker  and  printed  in 


222 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  American  Magazine  for  February,  1910;  the  ac- 
counts of  the  slavery  of  Yucatan  by  the  English  writers, 
Arnold  and  Frost,  in  the  book,  “An  American  Egypt,” 
which  was  quoted  at  length  in  The  American  Magazine 
of  April,  1910.  The  corroboration  which  I shall  present 
here  is  taken  almost  entirely  from  my  critics  themselves, 
persons  who  started  out  to  deny  the  slavery  or  to  pal- 
liate it,  and  who  ended  by  admitting  the  existence  of  the 
essential  features  of  that  institution. 

To  begin  with  the  least  important  class  of  witnesses, 
I shall  take  up  first  the  statements  of  several  American 
planters  who  rushed  into  print  to  defend  the  system 
of  their  friend  Diaz.  There  is  George  S.  Gould,  man- 
ager of  the  San  Gabriel  rubber  plantation,  on  the  Isthmus 
of  Tehuantepec.  In  various  newspapers  Mr.  Gould  was 
quoted  extensively,  especially  in  the  San  Francisco  Bul- 
letin, where  he  speaks  of  the  “absolute  inaccuracy”  of 
my  writings.  Here  are  some  of  his  explanations  taken 
from  that  paper: 

“As  general  manager  of  the  San  Gabriel,  I send  $2,500  at  a 
certain  season  to  my  agent  in  the  City  of  Oaxaca.  He  opens 
an  employment  office  and  calls  for  a quota  of  seventy-five 
men.  * * * 

“The  laborer  is  given  an  average  of  fifty  cents  (Mexican)  a 
week  until  the  debt  he  owes  the  company  is  liquidated.  The 
company  is  not  obliged  to  pay  him  this  amount,  but  does  so  to 
keep  him  contented.  He  is  usually  contracted  for  for  periods 
ranging  from  six  months  to  three  years.  In  three  years,  if  he 
is  reasonably  industrious  and  saving,  he  will  not  only  have  paid 
off  his  debt  money,  but  he  will  draw  his  liquidation  with  money 
in  his  pocket.  * * * 

“The  sum  total  is  this : The  peon  slavery  in  Mexico  might 
be  called  slavery  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  but  as  long 
as  the  laborer  is  under  contract  to  the  plantation  owner  he  is 
being  done  an  inestimable  good.  It  is  the  plantation  owners 
who  prevent  the  peon — ordinarily  worthless  humans  with  no 
profession — from  becoming  public  charges.  Unwittingly  perhaps 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


223 


they  block  a lawless  and  irresponsible  element  by  teaching  the 
peon  to  use  his  hands  and  brain.” 

Mr.  Edward  H.  Thompson  was  for  many  years  the 
American  consul  in  Yucatan.  Mr.  Thompson  owns  a 
henequen  plantation,  and,  though  I did  not  visit  it,  I was 
informed  that  he  held  slaves  under  exactly  the  same 
conditions  as  do  the  henequen  kings.  Immediately  fol- 
lowing the  publication  of  my  first  article  Mr.  Thompson 
issued  a long  statement  that  was  published  in  so  many 
papers  that  I imagine  a news  syndicate  was  employed  to 
circulate  it.  Mr.  Thompson  began  by  denouncing  my 
article  as  “outrageous  in  its  statements  and  absolutely 
false  in  many  details.”  But  read  what  Mr.  Thompson 
himself  says  are  the  facts: 

‘‘Reduced  to  its  lowest  terms  and  looking  at  the  matter  without 
the  desire  to  produce  a sensational  magazine  article,  the  so- 
called  slavery  becomes  one  of  simple  contract  convenience  to 
both  parties.  The  native  needs  the  money,  or  thinks  he  does, 
while  the  planter  needs  the  labor  of  the  native  servant. 

“The  indebted  servant  is  held  more  or  less  strictly  to  the 
terms  of  the  verbal  and  implied  contract,  according  to  the 
personal  equation  of  the  planter  or  his  representative.  This 
general  fact  is  equally  true  in  all  of  the  great  industries  of  our 
country  as  well  as  in  Yucatan. 

“I  do  not  seek  to  defend  the  system  of  indebted  labor.  It 
is  bad  in  theory  and  worse  in  practice.  It  is  bad  for  the 
planter  because  it  locks  up  capital  that  could  otherwise  be 
employed  in  developing  the  resources  of  the  plantation.  It  is 
worse  for  the  servant,  because  by  reason  of  it  he  learns  to  lean 
too  much  on  the  powerful  protection  of  his  creditor-em- 
ployer.” 

Reading  those  lines  with  discrimination,  you  will  ob- 
serve that  Mr.  Thompson  admits  that  debt  slavery  is 
prevalent  in  Yucatan,  admits  that  a similar  system  exists 
all  over  Mexico,  and  admits  that  it  is  a system  that  can- 
not be  defended.  They  why  does  he  defend  it  ? 


224 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Mr.  C.  V.  Cooper,  an  American  land  promoter,  writ- 
ing in  the  Portland  Oregonian,  says  that  he  read  my 
articles  with  “amusement  mixed  with  indignation,”  and 
decided  that  they  were  “grossly  exaggerated.”  But  he 
made  some  admissions.  Said  he : 

“The  Mexican  peon  law  provides  that  if  a servant  for  any 
reason  is  indebted  to  his  employer,  he  must  remain  and  work 
out  the  debt  at  a wage  agreed  upon  between  the  employer  and 
the  employe.” 

But,  Mr.  Cooper,  if  the  employe  must  remain,  how 
can  he  have  any  say  as  to  how  much  the  wage  which 
you  declare  is  “agreed  upon”  shall  be? 

Very  naively  Mr.  Cooper  explains  the  freedom  of  the 
peon.  Says  he: 

“There  is  nothing  compulsory  in  his  service  at  all.  If  he  does 
not  like  his  surroundings  or  his  treatment,  he  is  at  perfect 
liberty  to  obtain  the  amount  of  his  debt  from  anyone  else  and 
leave  the  property.” 

From  whom  else,  Mr.  Cooper?  Oh,  the  sweet,  sweet 
liberty  of  Mexico! 

It  is  too  bad  that  Mr.  Cooper  should  have  marred  such 
a rosy  picture  as  he  paints  by  admitting  the  man-hunt- 
ing part  of  the  system.  But  he  does : 

“Should  a man  run  away,  we  can  have  him  brought  back  if 
the  amount  of  the  debt  involved  is  worth  while.  The  expense 
of  his  capture  is  paid  by  the  plantation  and  added  to  his 
account.” 

Yet  Mr.  Cooper  finally  avers: 

“The  peons  are  perfectly  free  to  come  and  go  as  they  choose, 
with  the  only  legal  proviso  that  they  do  not  swindle  any  one  out 
of  money  that  has  been  advanced  them  in  good  faith.” 

Mr.  Cooper  thought  so  well  of  his  defense  of  the 
Diaz  system  that  he — or  someone  else — went  to  the  ex- 
pense of  having  it  printed  in  pamphlet  form  and  cir- 
culated about  the  country.  There  were  other  pam- 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


225 


phleteers  besides  Mr.  Cooper,  too,  who  rushed  to  the 
defense  of  Mexico.  One  was  Mr.  E.  S.  Smith  of  Tippe- 
canoe, Iowa,  the  man  who  wired  President  Taft  begging 
him  to  deny  The  American  Magazine  the  mails,  and 
that  before  my  first  article  went  to  press.  Mr.  Smith 
wrote  “The  Truth  About  Mexico,”  which  The  Bankers’ 
Magazine  printed,  and  the  same  matter  was  afterwards 
put  into  a pamphlet.  Mr.  Smith  was  so  extravagant 
in  his  denials  of  imperfections  in  Mexican  institutions 
and  so  glowing  in  his  descriptions  of  Mexico’s  “ideal” 
government  that  one  of  that  government’s  warmest  de- 
fenders, The  Mexican  Herald,  was  revolted  by  the  pro- 
duction and  printed  a long  editorial  in  which  it  prayed 
that  Mexico  might  be  delivered  of  such  friends  as  Mr. 
Smith. 

Mr.  Guillermo  Hall,  another  American  who  is  inter- 
ested in  Mexican  properites,  considers  my  articles  a 
“great  injustice,”  inasmuch  as,  since  the  poor  Mexican 
knows  nothing  of  freedom,  he  must  be  perfectly  well  off 
as  a slave.  The  Tucson,  Arizona,  Citizen  quoted  Mr. 
Hall  as  follows : 

“The  cold  facts  stated  in  black  type  might  seem  preposterous 
to  the  Americans  of  this  country,  whose  training  and  environ- 
ment are  so  different.  * * * In  the  lower  country  along  the 
border,  for  instance,  the  so-called  peon  has  no  conception  of 
the  liberty  we  enjoy  in  America.  He  absolutely  doesn’t  know 
what  it  means.  The  property  owners  there  are  compelled  by 
force  of  circumstances  to  maintain,  at  present,  a sort  of  feudal- 
ism over  him.” 

Mr.  Dwight  E.  Woodbridge,  a planter  and  writer, 
wrote  at  length  in  defense  of  Mexican  slavery  in  the 
Mining  World,  the  organ  of  the  American  Mine  Owners’ 
organization.  Here  are  some  excerpts : 

“Unquestionably  there  are  brutalities  and  savageness  in 
Mexico.  Outrages  are  committed  there,  both  on  the  prisoners 


226 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


taken  from  confinement  to  haciendas  and  on  the  Yaquis.  * * * 
I am  interested  in  a large  plantation  in  southern  Mexico,  where 
we  have  some  300  Yaqui  laborers. 

“Throughout  the  Yaqui  country  I have  seen  such  things  as 
are  pictured  in  the  magazine,  passed  the  bodies  of  men  hanging 
to  trees,  sometimes  mutilated;  have  seen  hundreds  of  tame 
Yaquis  herded  in  jails  to  be  sent  to  the  plantations  of  Yucatan, 
or  Tabasco,  or  Veracruz ; have  heard  of  worse  things. 

“There  is  a certain  sort  of  peonage  in  Mexico.  One  may  call 
it  slavery  if  he  will,  and  not  be  far  from  the  truth.  It  is,  in 
fact,  illegal,  and  no  contracts  under  it  can  be  enforced  in  the 
courts.  The  slave  is  a slave  so  long  as  he  is  working  out  his 
debt.” 

Of  course  none  of  the  defenders  of  Mexico  admit  all 
of  my  assertions,  and  all  of  them,  naturally,  seek  to 
minimize  the  horrors  of  the  slave  system — otherwise 
they  could  not  be  defending  it.  But  you  will  see  that 
one  admits  one  thing  and  another  another  until  the  whole 
story  is  confessed  as  true. 

Among  the  American  publishers  who  rushed  to  the 
defense  of  Diaz  was  Mr.  William  Randolph  Hearst. 
Mr.  Hearst  sent  a writer,  Otheman  Stevens,  to  Mexico 
to  gather  material  to  prove  that  Mexico  is  not  barbarous. 
Valiantly  did  Mr.  Stevens  attempt  to  carry  out  his  trust, 
but  in  dealing  with  the  contract  slavery  system  he  suc- 
ceeded in  admitting  most  of  the  essential  points,  and  was 
able  to  defend  only  on  the  plea  of  capitalistic  “necessity.” 
Some  of  his  admissions,  as  they  appeared  in  the  Cos- 
mopolitan Magazine  of  March,  1910,  are: 

“To  offset  these  prospects  of  early  industrial  advances  is  the 
contract  labor  system,  and  the  contract  labor  system  in  Mexico 
is  a bad  institution. 

“Its  repulsive  features  to  our  eyes  is  the  fact  that,  while  the 
laborer  enters  voluntarily  into  the  contract,  the  law  gives  the 
employer  a right  over  the  workman’s  person  in  the  enforcement 
of  the  contract.  Theoretically,  there  is  no  argument  to  be  made 
for  contract  labor. 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION  22 7 

“If  an  enganchado  rebels  or  is  insolent  or  lazy,  the  lithe  rod 
in  the  hands  of  the  ‘boss’  of  the  gang  winds  around  him,  and 
he  soon  understands  that  he  must  fulfill  his  part  of  the  con- 
tract. If  he  runs  away,  a reward  of  ten  dollars  is  paid  to  who- 
ever brings  him  back.  His  clothes  are  taken  away  from  him, 
and  he  is  clad  in  a gunny  sack  with  holes  cut  for  arms  and 
legs.” 

Mr.  Stevens’  defense  of  this  system,  as  published  in 
the  same  number  of  the  same  magazine,  is: 

“Outside  of  the  restrictions  of  dogmatic  controversy  there 
is  only  one  phase  that  makes  a wrong  right,  and  that  is  neces- 
sity. A legal  enforcement  of  a contract  by  using  physical  force 
over  the  person  is  in  itself  wrong.  On  the  other  hand,  legisla- 
tion now  prohibiting  contract  labor  would  work  a greater  wrong, 
for  it  would  destroy  millions  of  investments,  would  retard  a 
most  beneficent  and  rapid  development  of  the  richest  region  on 
this  continent,  if  not  in  the  world,  and  would,  by  reflexes,  work 
more  harm  to  the  very  people  it  would  intend  to  aid  than  an 
indefinite  continuance  of  the  present  conditions.” 

This  is  exactly  the  logic  the  slave-driving  cotton  plant- 
ers of  our  southern  states  used  before  the  Civil  War. 
It  will  hardly  “go”  with  anyone  who  has  not  money  in- 
vested in  Mexican  plantations  which  use  enganchados. 

I do  not  wish  to  tire  the  reader,  but,  aside  from  the 
fact  that  I have  been  most  violently  attacked,  I have 
a reason  for  wishing  to  go  a little  deeper  into  this  mat- 
ter of  critics  and  corroboration.  Let  us  get  right  down 
into  Mexico  itself,  down  to  the  very  newspapers  that 
are  paid  a specified  sum  each  week  in  exchange  for 
manufacturing  public  opinion  favorable  to  President 
Diaz  and  his  system.  In  Mexico  City  there  are  two 
daily  newspapers  printed  in  English,  the  Herald  and 
the  Record.  Both  are  prosperous  and  well  edited,  and 
both  are  open  defenders  of  the  Mexican  government 
The  Herald,  especially,  repeatedly  denounced  my  articles. 


228 


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I believe  that  I can  show  as  many  as  fifty  clippings  from 
this  paper  alone  which,  in  one  way  or  another,  attempted 
to  cast  doubt  upon  my  statements.  Nevertheless,  in  the 
course  of  the  daily  publication  of  the  news,  or  in  the 
very  campaign  of  defense,  both  of  these  papers  have, 
since  the  first  appearance  of  “Barbarous  Mexico,” 
printed  matter  which  convincingly  confirmed  my  charges. 

October  23,  1909,  the  Daily  Record  dared  to  print  an 
article  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Luis  Lara  y Pardo,  one  of 
the  best-known  of  Mexican  writers,  in  which  he  admitted 
that  my  indictment  was  true.  A few  lines  from  the 
article  will  suffice.  Said  Dr.  Pardo: 

“The  regime  of  slavery  continues  under  the  cloak  of  the  loan 
laws.  Peons  are  sold  by  one  hacendado  to  another  under  the 
pretext  that  the  money  that  has  been  advanced  must  be  paid. 
In  the  capital  of  the  Republic  itself  traffic  in  human  flesh  has 
been  engaged  in. 

“On  the  haciendas  the  peons  live  in  the  most  horrible  manner. 
They  are  crowded  into  lodgings  dirtier  than  a stable  and  are 
maltreated.  The  hacendado  metes  out  justice  to  the  peon,  who 
is  even  denied  the  right  to  protest.” 

A widespread  fear  among  the  common  people  of  be- 
ing ensnared  as  cngancliados  would  argue  not  only  that 
the  system  is  extensive,  but  that  it  is  fraught  with  great 
hardship.  January  6,  1910,  the  Mexican  Daily  Record 
published  a news  item  which  indicated  that  this  is  true, 
and  also  suggested  one  way  in  which  the  government 
plays  into  the  hands  of  the  labor  snarers.  Shorn  of  its 
headlines,  the  item  is : 

“Five  hundred  contract  laborers  intended  to  work  at  con- 
struction camps  on  the  Veracruz  and  Pacific  railroad,  are 
encamped  near  Buenavista  station  as  a result  of  their  unwilling- 
ness to  sign  a formal  contract,  and  the  law  prohibiting  their 
being  taken  into  another  state  without  such  contract. 

“Governor  Landa  y Escandon  yesterday  afternoon  refused  to 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


229 


grant  the  request  of  R.  P.  Davis  and  F.  Villademoros,  signers 
of  a petition  to  him  to  allow  the  laborers  to  be  shipped  out. 
With  their  wives,  children,  and  all  their  worldly  possessions  they 
form  a motley  camp  near  the  station. 

“In  their  petition,  Davis  and  Villademoros  claim  that  the  rail- 
road company  is  suffering  large  losses  by  the  detention  of  the 
laborers  and  that  many  of  the  latter  fear  if  they  sign  contracts 
they  will  he  shipped  to  sugar  and  coffee  plantations  and  held 
until  the  expiration  of  the  specified  terms. 

Governor  Landa  refused  the  request  on  the  ground  that 
the  law  requires  such  a formality  to  protect  the  laborers,  while 
the  reason  for  waiving  it  did  not  appear  logical.” 

The  Mexican  Herald  furnishes  more  corroboration 
than  the  Mexican  Record.  Commenting  editorially  upon 
the  announcements  of  “Barbarous  Mexico,”  it  said, 
August  27,  1909: 

“In  this  journal  during  recent  years,  and  in  many  Mexican 
papers  as  well,  the  abuses  of  the  peonage  system,  and  the  ill- 
treatment  of  los  enganchados  or  contract  laborers  in  some 
regions,  have  been  most  frankly  dealt  with.  The  enlightened 
Governor  of  Chiapas  has  denounced  the  evils  of  peonage  in  his 
state  and  has  received  the  thanks  of  the  patriotic  press  of  the 
country.  That  there  are  dark  spots  in  agricultural  labor  condi- 
tions, no  fair-minded  person  of  wide  information  seeks  to  deny.” 

About  the  same  time  Paul  Hudson,  general  manager 
of  the  paper,  was  quoted  in  a New  York  interview  as 
saying  that  my  exposures  “do  not  admit  of  categorical 
denial.”  And  in  the  Mexican  Herald  of  May  9,  1910, 
J.  Torrey  Conner,  writing  in  praise  of  General  Diaz, 
says:  “Slavery,  doubtless,  is  known  to  exist  in  Mexico 
— that  is  generally  understood.”  In  February,  1909,  in 
an  editorial  item  upon  the  political  situation  in  the  state 
of  Morelos,  the  Mexican  Herald  went  so  far  as  to  admit 
the  killing  of  debt  laborers  by  their  masters.  To  quote 
it  exactly: 

“It  is  undeniable  that  their  (the  planters’)  management  is  at 


230 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


times  severe.  When  angry  they  heap  abuse  on  the  peons  and 
even  maltreat  them  physically.  In  some  instances  they  have,  in 
times  not  so  distant,  even  taken  the  lives  of  native  laborers 
who  have  incensed  them,  and  have  gone  scot  free.” 

August  27,  1909,  in  an  article  on  “The  Enganchado” 
the  Herald  said,  in  part: 

‘‘The  enganchados  are  guarded  most  carefully,  for  there  is  the 
ever  present  danger  of  their  running  away  on  the  slightest 
opportunity.  Often  the  cabos  are  cruel  in  their  treatment,  a fact 
which  is  to  be  condemned.  * * * It  is  not  in  keeping  here 
to  mention  the  abuses  which  are  alleged  to  have  been  practiced 
against  the  enganchados,  the  treatment  of  men  so  shamelessly 
that  they  die,  the  raping  of  the  women,  the  deprivation  of  the 
laborers  of  any  means  of  bathing,  and  the  unsanitary  condition 
of  their  houses,  leading  on  to  noxious  diseases.  * * * No 
planter  who  knows  the  real  history  of  the  system,  or  the  inside 
facts  of  the  neighboring  plantations,  will  deny  for  a moment  the 
worst  stories  of  the  enganchado  are  true. 

“Plantation  men  do  not  take  the  enganchado  labor  because 
they  like  it.  Nor  do  they  prefer  it  to  any  other,  even  the 
lowest.  But  there  is  a certain  advantage  in  it,  as  one  planter 
said  to  the  writer,  with  a queer  thrill  in  his  voice:  ' When  you’ve 
got  ’em  they’re  yours,  and  have  to  do  what  you  want  them  to  do. 
If  they  don’t,  you  can  kill  them.”’ 

Such  corroboration  from  a subsidized  supporter  of  the 
system  itself  would  seem  rather  embarrassing  to  those 
individuals  who  were  so  zealous  as  publicly  to  announce 
that  my  portrayal  of  Mexican  slavery  was  a fabrication. 
It  will  be  seen  that  my  exposures  of  Mexican  slavery 
were  not  the  first  to  be  circulated  in  print;  they  were 
merely  the  first  to  be  circulated  widely,  and  they  went 
into  considerably  more  detail  than  anything  that  had 
gone  before.  The  little  item  that  I have  just  quoted 
admits  practically  all  the  worst  features  which  I dealt 
with  in  my  articles. 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


231 


Here  is  an  ordinary  news  item  clipped  from  the  Mex- 
ican Herald  of  May  30,  1909: 

“Angel  Contreras,  an  enganchado,  belonging  to  a good  family, 
is  reported  to  have  been  brutally  killed  by  being  beaten  to  death 
with  staves  at  the  nearby  San  Francisco  sugar  mills  in  the 
El  Naranjal  municipality.  Local  newspapers  state  that  other 
similar  crimes  have  been  committed  at  that  place.” 

This  is  the  first  information  I have  had  that  men  are 
beaten  to  death  in  the  sugar  mills  of  Mexico. 

I present  a news  item  from  the  Mexican  Herald  which 
describes  better  than  I did  in  my  fourth  chapter  one 
of  the  methods  pursued  by  labor  snarers  to  get  their 
fish  into  the  net.  The  newspaper  prints  the  story  as  if 
the  occurrence  were  unusual;  I reprint  it  in  full  because 
it  is  typical.  The  only  difference  is  that  in  this  particular 
case  the  victim  was  rescued  and  the  labor  agent  was 
jailed  for  a day  or  two  only  because  it  chanced  that  the 
victim  had  been  an  employe  of  the  national  Department 
of  Foreign  Relations.  Had  the  authorities  wished  to 
stop  this  sort  of  man-stealing,  as  the  Herald  would 
have  us  believe,  why  did  they  not  arrest  the  keepers  of 
the  other  “casas  de  enganchadores”  which  they  found, 
and  liberate  the  prisoners?  But  here  is  the  item,  head- 
lines and  all: 

“BOY  OF  16 
TRAPPED  HERE. 

“ALAMEDA  SCENE  OF  BOLD 
KIDNAPPING  BY 
SPANIARD. 

“TO  GO  TO  OAXAQUENA. 

“CONTRACTORS  PLANNED  TO  SEND 
BOY  TO  AMERICAN 
PLANTATION. 

“When  Felipe  Hernandez,  agent  of  a company  of  labor  con- 
tractors, commonly  referred  to  in  Mexico  as  ‘enganchadores,’ 


232 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


met  sixteen-year-old  Benito  Juarez  in  the  Alameda  on  Wednes- 
day afternoon  and  induced  him  by  brilliant  promises  of  work 
and  wages  to  accompany  him  to  a house  on  la  Calle  de  Violeta, 
he  (Hernandez)  made  one  of  the  serious  mistakes  of  his  life. 
By  refusing  to  allow  young  Benito  to  go  out  of  the  house  after 
he  had  once  entered  it,  Hernandez  violated  one  of  the  federal 
statutes  and  he  is  now  being  held  in  the  fifth  comisaria  to 
answer  a charge  of  illegal  detention. 

“Hernandez  claims  that  he  is  the  employe  of  one  Leandro 
Lopez,  who  is  securing  laborers  for  the  Oaxaquena  Plantation 
Company,  an  American  concern  operating  an  extensive  hacienda 
on  the  Isthmus  of  Tehuantepec,  on  the  state  boundary  of  Vera- 
cruz, not  far  from  Santa  Lucrecia.  Both  men  are  Spaniards. 
The  whereabouts  of  the  boy,  Benito  Juarez,  was  not  definitely 
ascertained  until  yesterday  afternoon,  when  his  release  was 
secured  upon  the  demand  of  Subcomisario  Bustamante  of  the 
fifth  comisaria,  who  subsequently  arrested  Hernandez  after  the 
lad’s  statement  had  been  placed  on  record  at  the  comisaria. 

THE  BOY’S  SEDUCTION. 

“On  Wednesday  afternoon,  at  about  2 o’clock,  young  Benito, 
who  had  been  working  with  his  mother,  a bread  vendor,  was 
sitting  on  one  of  the  benches  in  the  Alameda  when,  according  to 
his  account,  Hernandez  happened  along  and  in  a benevolent 
way  asked  him  if  he  wanted  a job  at  $1.50  a day.  The  man 
explained  that  the  work  was  at  an  alcohol  factory  near  the  city 
and  that  the  position  was  something  in  the  character  of  time- 
keeping or  other  clerical  work.  The  lad  agreed  and  was 
induced  to  accompany  his  new-found  friend  to  Calle  Violeta, 
where  the  details  of  his  engagement  were  to  be  arranged. 

“On  the  way  they  stopped  at  a cheap  clothing  store,  where 
Hernandez  purchased  a twenty-cent  straw  hat,  a fifty-cent  blouse, 
a pair  of  sandals  and  a pair  of  trousers.  Arrived  at  the  house 
on  Calle  Violeta  young  Juarez  received  orders  to  put  on  the  peon 
clothing  and  to  relinquish  his  own  suit  of  good  apparel.  In  the 
house  where  he  found  himself  he  encountered  three  or  four 
other  men  in  the  same  situation  with  himself  who  apprized  him 
of  the  fact  that  he  was  now  a contract  laborer  destined  for  a 
plantation  in  the  hot  country. 

HIS  FRIENDS  TRACE  HIM. 

“Until  a short  time  ago  Benito  had  been  employed  as  a mozo 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


23  3 


in  the  office  of  the  department  of  foreign  relations  on  the  Paseo 
de  la  Reforma  and  it  was  a fairly  good  suit  of  clothing  that  he 
had  worn  while  working  there  that  he  exchanged  for  the  peon’s 
outfit.  It  was  also  through  the  charity  of  his  former  employer 
in  the  government  office  that  he  was  released  from  his  unwilling 
detention  in  Calle  Violeta. 

“The  boy’s  mother,  Angela  Ramos,  who  lives  at  No.  4 Calle 
Zanja,  had  expected  to  meet  him  at  the  Alameda,  where  he  was 
waiting  when  Hernandez  came  along.  Not  seeing  him,  she 
started  inquiry,  which  elicited  the  information  that  he  had  been 
seen  going  away  with  a man  who  was  supposed  to  be  a labor 
contractor,  and  she  forthwith  hunted  up  Ignacio  Arellano,  who 
is  employed  in  the  foreign  relations  building,  and  explained  to 
him  her  trouble. 

POLICE  APPEALED  TO. 

“Mr.  Arellano,  accompanied  by  Alfredo  Marquez,  an  em- 
ploye of  the  department  of  fomento,  secured  the  addresses  of 
three  establishments  commonly  known  as  ‘casas  de  engancha- 
dores,’  located  variously  at  Calle  de  Moctezuma,  7a  Calle  de 
Magnolia,  and  la  de  Violeta.  Their  experience  as  related  yester- 
day to  a representative  of  The  Herald  was  much  the  same  at 
each  place  and  was  about  as  follows : 

“At  each  of  the  labor  contractors’  ‘offices’  where  they  sought 
admission  they  were  refused,  being  told  that  they  had  no  such 
individual  as  the  boy  in  question  in  their  charge.  At  each  place 
the  assertion  was  made  that  they  never  contracted  persons  under 
age.  Finding  their  efforts  fruitless,  Arellano  and  Marquez  took 
the  matter  to  the  fifth  comisaria,  where  it  was  explained  to 
Subcomisario  Bustamante,  who  detailed  an  officer  and  two 
secret  service  men  to  the  places  in  question  with  orders  to 
search  them  thoroughly. 

SEARCHING  THE  HOUSE. 

No  particular  resistance  was  made  to  the  entrance  of  the 
officers  at  either  the  Moctezuma  or  Magnolia  street  places.  In 
the  former  were  about  a dozen  men  who  had  signed  contracts 
to  go  out  of  the  city  to  work  on  plantations,  while  in  the  latter 
were  about  twice  the  same  number.  These  men  are  said  to  have 
claimed  that  they  were  refused  permission  to  leave  the  place 
where  they  were  lodged  while  waiting  transportation  to  their 
ultimate  destinations. 


234 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“At  Calle  Violeta,  however,  the  door-keeper  at  first  refused 
the  officers  admission,  only  submitting  when  threatened  with 
the  arrest  of  every  person  in  the  house.  Here  young  Juarez 
was  found  and  was  taken  to  the  fifth  comisaria  for  examination. 
As  soon  as  his  statement  had  been  taken  the  arrest  of  Hernandez 
was  ordered,  and  after  his  identification  by  the  boy,  the  latter 
was  set  at  liberty. 

THE  BOY’S  ACCOUNT. 

“Recounting  his  own  adventure  last  night,  young  Juarez 
described  the  meeting  in  the  Alameda  and  the  exchange  of 
clothing,  and  continued : 

“ ‘After  I entered  the  house  I learned  from  one  of  the  men 
who  was  already  there  that  I had  been  fooled  in  the  promise  of 
pay  at  $1.50  as  time-keeper  in  an  alcohol  factory,  and  when  I 
asked  the  man  with  whom  I had  come  if  his  promises  were  not 
correct  he  said  that  of  course  they  were  not  and  that  I was  to  go 
to  work  as  a peon  on  the  Oaxaquena  plantation  at  fifty  cents  per 
day.  Then  I asked  him  to  let  me  go,  as  I did  not  want  to  do 
such  work,  but  he  would  not  let  me  leave  the  house,  saying  that  I 
owed  him  five  pesos  for  the  clothes  he  had  given  me. 

“ ‘Before  that  I had  told  him  that  I would  have  to  ask  my 
mother’s  permission  before  I could  go.  He  told  me  he  was  in  a 
great  hurry,  so  I wrote  her  a note  and  gave  it  to  him  to  be 
delivered.  Later  he  told  me  my  mother  had  read  the  note  and 
had  given  her  permission,  but  I have  found  out  since  that  she 
never  received  it  and  was  hunting  for  me  at  the  time. 

“ ‘I  was  given  a peso  and  five  cents  as  an  advance  on  my 
pay  and  the  next  morning  I was  given  twenty-five  cents  with 
which  to  buy  food,  which  was  sold  in  the  house.  All  this  money 
was  charged  up  against  me,  to  be  paid  after  I went  to  work, 
as  I learned  before  I left  the  place.  Breakfast,  which  cost 
thirteen  cents,  consisted  of  chile  and  chicharrones  (the  crisp 
residue  of  dried-out  pork  fat),  while  dinner,  a bowl  of  soup, 
cost  twelve  cents.  There  was  no  supper. 

“‘After  I was  brought  into  the  house  there  was  brought  in  a 
man,  and  a woman  who  had  a year-old  baby  with  her.  They  are 
there  yet.  The  people  in  the  house  still  have  my  clothes,  but  I 
am  pretty  glad  to  get  out  of  going  to  the  hot  country,  anyway. 
I did  not  sign  any  sort  of  a contract.  I did  not  even  see  one  and 
I do  not  know  whether  the  others  in  the  place  had  signed  con- 


CRITICS  AND  CORROBORATION 


235 


tracts  or  not.  They  all  said  they  had  been  refused  permission  to 
leave  the  house  unless  they  paid  back  the  money  which  they 
were  told  they  owed.’ 

GOOD  WORK  OF  THE  POLICE. 

“From  the  time  that  the  first  notice  of  the  infraction  of  the 
labor  law  was  received  by  the  police  officials  at  the  fifth  comis- 
aria  until  the  prosecution  of  Hernandez  was  put  under  way 
their  activity  has  demonstrated  beyond  any  question  how  far  the 
government  authorities  are  from  connivance  in  labor  abuses 
with  which  this  country  has  been  charged. 

“The  Mexican  law  provides  punishment  by  five  years  imprison- 
ment for  offenses  of  this  character  against  minors,  and  expressly 
forbids  the  signing  of  contracts  by  persons  under  legal  age 
binding  themselves  to  work.  As  there  is  no  legal  detention  with- 
out process  of  law,  the  prospects  for  a severe  punishment  of  the 
man  Hernandez,  if  the  assertions  of  the  lad  are  found  correct, 
seems  certain,  as  he  is  likely  to  be  made  an  example  of  for  the 
benefit  of  other  labor  contractors  disposed  to  be  careless  of 
their  methods.” 

I doubt  if  I could  do  better  than  to  end  this  chapter 
with  quotations  from  official  reports  of  the  United 
States  government  itself.  Cold-bloodedly  as  were  the 
succeeding  paragraphs  written,  the  statements  that  they 
contain  are  yet  exceedingly  corroborative.  They  are 
from  Bulletin  No.  38  of  the  United  States  Department 
of  Labor,  published  in  January,  1902.  I should  like  to 
quote  more  extensively,  but  I take  only  a few  para- 
graphs from  pages  42,  43  and  44. 

“In  a great  many  (Mexican)  states  where  tropical  products  are 
raised  the  native  residents  are  employed  under  a contract  which 
is  compulsory  on  their  part,  owing  to  their  being  in  debt  to  the 
planter.  * * * 

“The  system  of  enforced  labor  is  carried  out  to  its  logical 
sequence  in  the  sisal-grass  plantations  of  Yucatan.  There,  on 
each  large  plantation,  is  to  be  found  a body  of  peons,  called 
criados  or  sindentes  (servants),  who,  with  their  families,  live 
on  the  plantations,  and  in  many  cases  have  been  born  there. 


236 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


These  criados  are  bound  to  the  soil  by  indebtedness,  for  although 
a mere  contract  to  perform  certain  services  does  not  impose 
specific  performance,  it  is  held  in  Yucatan  that  where  an 
advance  payment  has  been  made  either  the  repayment  of  the 
money  or,  in  default  thereof,  the  specific  performance  may  be 
exacted. 

“The  system  of  labor  enforced  by  indebtedness  seems  to 
work  in  Yucatan  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  planter.  The  peon 
is  compelled  to  work  unless  he  is  able  to  pay  off  his  constantly 
increasing  debt,  and  any  attempt  at  flight  or  evasion  is  followed 
by  penal  retribution.  The  peon  rarely,  if  ever,  achieves  inde- 
pendence, and  a transference  of  a workman  from  one  employer 
to  another  is  only  effected  by  means  of  the  new  employer 
paying  to  the  former  one  the  amount  of  the  debt  contracted. 
The  system  thus  resembles  slavery,  not  only  in  the  compulsion 
under  which  the  peon  works,  but  in  the  large  initial  expense 
required  of  the  planter  when  making  his  first  investment  in 
labor. 

“In  the  State  of  Tabasco  the  conditions  of  forced  labor  are 
somewhat  different  and  the  difficulty  of  the  labor  problem, 
especially  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  planter,  is  exceedingly 
aggravated.  In  Tabasco  the  law  does  not  permit  the  same 
remedy  as  in  Yucatan,  namely,  the  enforcement  of  the  specific 
performance  of  a contract  upon  which  an  advance  payment  has 
been  made,  but  this  drawback  is  more  apparent  than  real,  since 
the  governmental  authority  is  vested  in  the  hands  of  the  land- 
owning planting  classes,  and  the  obligation  of  contracted  peons 
to  work  for  the  planters  is  virtually  enforced.” 

Is  it  necessary  to  ask  again,  who  has  been  distorting 
the  truth,  myself  or  the  other  fellow?  Is  there  slavery 
in  Mexico,  and  is  it  widespread?  Are  men  bought  and 
sold  like  mules,  locked  up  at  night,  hunted  down  when 
they  try  to  run  away,  starved,  beaten,  killed?  Surely 
these  questions  have  been  answered  to  the  satisfaction 
of  every  honest  reader.  But  I have  not  yet  answered 
that  other  question,  why — why  are  so  many  Americans 
so  ready  to  distort  the  truth  about  Mexico? 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRACY 

If  there  is  any  combination  of  Interests  in  the  United 
States  that  exercises  so  powerful  an  influence  over  the 
press  of  this  country  as  does  President  Diaz  of  Mexico 
I should  like  to  know  its  name. 

In  a previous  chapter  I asserted  that  no  publication  in 
Mexico  dares,  no  matter  what  the  circumstances,  to  crit- 
icize President  Diaz  directly.  While  the  same  thing 
cannot,  of  course,  be  said  of  the  United  States,  at  least 
this  can  be  said,  that  there  exists  a strange,  even  an 
uncanny,  unwillingness  on  the  part  of  powerful  Ameri- 
can publishers  to  print  anything  derogatory  to  the  ruler 
of  Mexico;  that,  also,  there  is  manifested  a remarkable 
willingness  to  print  matter  flattering  to  the  Mexican 
dictator. 

At  this  writing  I do  not  know  of  a single  book,  regu- 
larly published  and  circulated  in  the  United  States,  which 
seriously  criticizes  President  Diaz,  the  man  or  his  sys- 
tem; while  I could  name  at  least  ten  which  flatter  him 
most  extravagantly.  Indeed,  I do  not  know  of  any  book 
that  has  ever  been  circulated  in  the  United  States — that 
is,  one  put  out  by  one  of  the  regular  publishing  houses — 
which  attempted  an  extended  criticism  of  President 
Diaz. 

And  the  situation  with  the  magazines  is  exactly  the 
same.  While  the  number  of  articles  containing  praise  of 
Diaz  which  have  been  published  in  magazines — not  to 
mention  newspapers — during  the  past  several  years  have 
undoubtedly  run  into  the  hundreds,  I do  not  know  of  one 
prominent  magazine  that  has  prosecuted  a criticism  of 
the  Mexican  dictator. 

Is  it  not  an  astonishing  situation?  And  what  is  the 


237 


238 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


reason  for  it?  Is  it  because  the  system  of  Diaz  is  be- 
yond reproach?  Or  is  it  because  by  some  mysterious 
power  that  personage  is  able  to  control  the  press  in  his 
favor  ? 

Look  about  you.  Is  there  any  other  statesman  or  poli- 
tician of  the  present  day,  American  or  foreign,  who  has 
been  accorded  a larger  proportion  of  praise  and  a 
smaller  proportion  of  blame  by  prominent  American 
publishers  than  President  Diaz? 

I say  that  I do  not  know  of  one  prominent  magazine 
that  has  prosecuted  a criticism  of  Diaz.  Then  how  about 
The  American  Magazine?  The  American  Magazine 
began  a criticism,  truly.  And  it  planned  to  carry  it  out. 
Repeatedly  it  promised  its  readers  that  it  would  deal 
with  the  political  conditions  behind  the  slavery  of  Mex- 
ico. It  hinted  that  Diaz  would  be  shown  in  a new  light. 
It  had  the  material  in  its  hands — most  of  the  material 
of  this  book — and  it  was  very  bold  and  unequivocal  in 
its  announcements.  And  then — 

The  American  Magazine  proved  the  point  that  I am 
making  more  convincingly  than  any  other  instance  than 
I can  cite.  Suddenly  my  articles  were  stopped.  The  po- 
litical investigation  was  stopped.  Other  articles  were 
substituted,  milder  articles,  good  as  corroborations  of 
the  exposures  of  slavery,  but  in  each  and  every  one  of 
these  articles  there  was  contained  a suggestion  that 
President  Diaz  was  not  personally  to  blame  for  the  bar- 
barous conditions  that  had  been  held  up  to  the  light. 

“Diaz  controls  all  sources  of  news  and  the  means  of  trans- 
mitting it.  Papers  are  suppressed  or  subsidized  at  the  pleasure 
of  the  government.  We  know  of  some  of  the  subsidies  paid 
even  to  important  Mexican  papers  printed  in  English.  The 
real  news  of  Mexico  does  not  get  across  the  border.  Books 
that  truly  describe  the  present  state  of  things  are  suppressed 
or  bought  up  even  when  published  in  the  United  States.  A 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRACY 


239 


great  Mexico-Diaz  myth  has  been  built  up  by  skilfully  applied 
influence  upon  journalism.  It  is  the  most  astounding  case  of  the 
suppression  of  truth  and  the  dissemination  of  untruth  that  recent 
history  affords.” 

With  these  words  the  editors  of  The  American  Maga- 
zine heralded  to  the  world  the  first  of  my  articles  under 
the  title  of  “Barbarous  Mexico.” 

“Skilfully  applied  influence  upon  journalism !”  Lit- 
tle did  the  writer  of  that  pregnant  phrase  realize  how 
pregnant  it  was.  Little  did  he  imagine  that  before  six 
short  months  were  gone  that  phrase  would  be  as  ap- 
plicable to  his  own  publication  as  to  any  other. 

What  was  the  skilfully  applied  influence  exerted  upon 
The  American  Magazine?  I am  not  pretending  to  say. 
But  to  anyone  who  will  go  back  and  read  again  the  bold 
announcements  of  the  September,  October  and  Novem- 
ber numbers  of  the  magazine — 1909 — read  the  enthusi- 
astic comments  of  the  editors  on  the  interest  aroused 
by  the  series,  the  delighted  statements  of  jumping  circu- 
lation, the  letters  of  subscribers  begging  the  editors  not 
to  fear,  but  to  go  on  with  the  good  work,  and  then  note 
how  the  magazine  sheered  away  from  its  program  after 
the  first  of  the  year,  the  conclusion  that  there  was  some 
kind  of  “skilfully  applied  influence”  seemed  pretty  well 
justified.* 


* Since  this  matter  was  put  in  type  The  American  Magazine  has 
begun  a second  series  of  articles  on  Mexico,  in  which  it  promises  to 
follow  out  the  thread  of  exposure  which  it  dropped  several  months 
previously.  In  the  October  issue,  1910,  it  prints  under  the  name  of 
Alexander  Powell  an  article  two-thirds  of  which  had  been  written 
by  me  and  furnished  to  The  American  fifteen  months  earlier.  The 
alleged  author  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  re-write  the  mate- 
rial, and  it  appears  almost  word  for  word  as  I originally  wrote  it. 
To  my  mind  this  is  but  a confirmation  of  my  widely  circulated 
charges : First,  that  The  American  failed  to  carry  out  its  promises  to 
the  public  because  of  “skilfully  applied  influence second,  that  it 
has  gone  back  to  the  subject  of  Mexico  only  because  its  readers 
who  have  read  my  charges  have  whipped  it  into  doing  so.  Finally, 
its  publication  at  this  late  day  of  my  original  material  is  proof 
that  it  has  not  been  “gathering  new  facts,”  as  announced,  and  that 
the  facts  furnished  by  me  in  the  first  place  are  the  most  effective  as 
well  as  the  most  reliable  that  have  yet  come  into  its  possession. 


240 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


But  let  us  note  some  of  the  journalistic  antics  of  some 
other  leading  publishers.  There  is  William  Randolph 
Hearst,  for  example,  proprietor  of  The  Cosmopolitan 
Magazine  and  numerous  daily  newspapers  in  different 
parts  of  the  country.  There  is  no  use  of  dwelling  here 
upon  the  democratic  and  humanitarian  professions  of 
Mr.  Hearst.  Everybody  knows  that  for  the  United 
States,  and  doubtless  most  other  countries,  he  advocates 
democracy,  freedom  of  speech,  a free  press,  universal 
suffrage,  regulation  of  predatory  corporations,  protec- 
tion of  labor.  But  Mr.  Hearst’s  readers  have  just 
learned  that  for  Mexico  he  is  in  favor  of  despotism,  a 
police  ruled  press,  no  suffrage,  unbridled  corporations, 
and — slavery.  I have  never  seen  a more  frantic  apology 
for  these  institutions  anywhere  than  is  to  be  found  in 
the  March,  April  and  May,  1910,  numbers  of  the  Cos- 
mopolitan Magazine. 

That  Mr.  Hearst  was  personally  responsible  for  the 
publication  of  these  articles  is  evidenced  by  an  inter- 
view which  he  gave  The  Mexican  Herald  while  in  Mex- 
ico last  March.  Says  that  newspaper,  under  date  of 
March  23 : 

“In  reference  to  the  stories  attacking  Mexico,  which  have 
been  largely  circulated  recently,  Mr.  Hearst  stated  that  he  had 
looked  after  defending  the  good  name  of  this  country  to  the 
best  of  his  ability.  He  placed  two  of  his  staff,  Otheman 
Stevens  and  Alfred  Henry  Lewis,  at  work  on  matter  pertaining 
to  Mexico  and  much  of  the  material  collected  by  them  had 
already  appeared  in  some  of  his  newspapers.” 

So  headlong  was  Mr.  Hearst’s  hurry  to  the  defense 
of  Diaz  that  he  did  not  take  time  to  secure  writers  fa- 
miliar with  the  most  primary  facts  about  their  subject, 
nor  give  them  time  to  compare  notes  and  avoid  con- 
tradictions, nor  give  his  editors  time  to  verify  ordinary 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


241 


statements.  Mr.  Lewis’  article  was  prepared  so  liter- 
ally at  the  last  moment  that,  when  it  came,  the  magazine 
had  already  been  paged  and  the  article  had  to  be  put  in 
as  an  insertion,  with  special  paging.  A laughable 
feature  of  the  campaign  was  that,  in  introducing  his 
knights  of  the  defense,  the  editor  of  the  Cosmopolitan 
moralized  at  length  on  the  matter  of  permitting  raw  and 
untried  writers — meaning  myself — to  handle  important 
subjects,  and  named  a list  of  proven  and  guaranteed-to- 
be-reliable  writers  among  whom  was  Mr.  Alfred  Henry 
Lewis.  But  when  Mr.  Lewis  came  to  write!  I pray 
that  in  all  this  book  there  is  not  one  mistake  one-half  as 
ridiculous  as  any  of  a dozen  in  Mr.  Lewis’  short  article. 

Mr.  Lewis  modestly  remarked,  near  the  start,  that : 
“Personally,  I know  as  much  of  Mexico  and  Mexicans 
as  any.”  But  the  burden  of  his  story  was  that  my 
writings  were  inspired  by  Standard  Oil,  which  wanted 
revenge  on  Diaz  for  having  been  “kicked  out  of  Mex- 
ico.” Now  how  Mr.  Lewis  could  have  lived  in  the 
United  States  during  the  previous  few  months  and  read 
the  newspapers  without  having  learned  of  the  oil  war 
in  Mexico,  a war  in  which  at  the  very  time  the  lines 
were  written,  Standard  Oil  seemed  on  the  point  of 
forcing  its  only  competitor  to  sell  out  to  it  on  unfavor- 
able terms,  how  Mr.  Lewis  could  have  failed  to  know 
that  Standard  Oil  owns  millions  of  dollars  worth  of  oil 
lands  and  does  a vast  majority  of  the  retail  oil  business 
in  Diaz-land,  how  he  could  have  been  ignorant  of  the 
fact  that  H.  Clay  Pierce,  head  of  the  Standard  Oil  cor- 
poration in  Mexico,  is  a director  of  the  National  Rail- 
ways of  Mexico,  the  government  merged  lines,  so-called, 
and  a close  ally  of  President  Diaz,  is  a little  difficult  to 
understand.  Personally,  Mr.  Lewis  knows  as  much  of 
Mexico  and  Mexicans  as  any!  Any — what? 


242 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


Just  one  more  of  Mr.  Lewis’  all-embracing  blunders 
in  that  article.  Said  he : 

“Search  where  you  will,  in  every  Mexican  corner,  from  the 
Pacific  to  the  gulf,  from  Yucatan  to  the  Arizona  line,  you  will 
meet  no  sugar  trust  to  cheat  the  government  with  false  scales, 
no  coal  trust  to  steal  the  fires  from  the  poor  man’s  chimney,  no 
wool  or  cotton  trust  to  steal  the  clothes  off  his  back,  no  beef 
trust  to  filch  the  meat  from  his  table,  no  leather  trust  to  take 
the  shoes  off  his  feet.  * * * The  trusts  do  not  exist  in 
Mexico.” 

Which  proves  that  Mr.  Lewis  does  not  know  the  first 
principle  upon  which  Mexican  finance  and  Mexican  com- 
mercial life  is  based.  Not  only  does  the  same  financial 
ring  which  monopolizes  the  great  industries  of  the  Uni- 
ted States  monopolize  those  same  industries  in  Mexico 
— I shall  presently  enumerate  some  of  them — but  every 
state  and  locality  has  its  minor  trusts  which  control  the 
necessities  of  life  in  their  field  a great  deal  more  com- 
pletely than  such  necessities  are  controlled  in  this  coun- 
try. Mr.  Lewis  does  not  seem  to  know  that  the  Mexican 
government  is  openly  in  the  trust  business,  that  by  sale 
and  gift  of  special  privileges  known  as  “concessions” 
it  creates  and  maintains  trusts  of  high  and  low  degree. 
Personally,  Mr.  Lewis  knows  as  much  of  Mexico  and 
Mexicans  as  any ! 

Just  a slip  or  two  from  Mr.  Stevens,  taken  almost  at 
random. 

“There  is  no  terrifying  labor  question  to  make  the  investor 
hesitate.  A strike  is  unknown,  and  there  is  no  danger  of  a 
shortage  of  labor,  skilled  or  unskilled.” 

And  another: 

“No  bank  in  Mexico  can  fail,  no  bank-note  can  be  worthless, 
and  no  depositor  can  possibly  lose  his  money,  no  matter  what 
fatality  may  befall  the  bank  with  which  he  has  his  account.” 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


243 


As  to  the  first  statement,  I have  answered  it  in  the 
chapter,  “Four  Mexican  Strikes.”  Three  of  these  strikes 
are  famous  and  there  is  no  excuse  for  Mr.  Stevens’ 
having  heard  of  none  of  them.  As  to  the  second  state- 
ment, there  are  some  hundreds  of  Americans  who  are 
just  now  fervently  wishing  it  were  really  true — fer- 
vently wishing  that  they  could  get  a settlement  on  the 
basis  of  twenty-five  cents  on  the  dollar.  In  February, 
1910,  about  the  time  Mr.  Stevens  was  penning  so  glow- 
ingly, the  United  States  Bank  of  Mexico,  the  largest 
bank  in  the  country  which  catered  to  Americans,  was 
wrecked  in  exactly  the  same  way  as  most  American  bank 
wrecks  are  made — by  misappropriation  of  funds  to  sup- 
port a speculative  scheme.  The  bank  went  to  smash, 
the  president  went  to  jail,  the  depositors  did  not  get 
their  money  and  at  this  writing  there  seems  little  chance 
of  their  getting  any  of  it.  Certainly  they  will  never  get 
all  or  half  of  it.  And  this  was  not  the  only  disaster  of 
the  sort  that  has  lately  occurred  in  Mexico.  About  May 
1,  1910,  another  American  bank,  the  Federal  Banking 
Company,  went  to  smash  and  its  cashier,  Robert  E. 
Crump,  went  to  jail.  The  fact  is  that  there  was  no 
ground  for  Mr.  Stevens’  statement  whatsoever. 

To  quote  all  of  Mr.  Stevens’  blunders  would  be  to 
quote  most  of  his  three  articles.  He  went  to  Mexico 
to  prepare  a defense  of  Diaz  and  he  did  not  take  the 
trouble  to  put  a liberal  sprinkling  of  facts  in  his  de- 
fense. He  was  taken  in  charge  by  agents  of  Diaz  and 
he  wrote  down  what  they  told  him  to  write.  He  was 
even  taken  in  on  the  little  yarn  about  the  Yucatan  slave 
who  got  his  master  into  jail,  a yarn  which  had  done  duty 
before.  The  story  runs  that  a henequen  king  beat  one  of 
his  laborers,  the  laborer  appealed  to  a justice  of  the 
peace,  who  arrested  and  fined  the  master.  The  truth 


244 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


of  the  incident  was — and  my  authority  is  most  reliable 
— that  the  slave  had  run  away,  was  caught  by  a planter 
other  than  his  owner,  who  attempted  to  hold  him  quietly 
as  his  own.  In  the  course  of  the  day’s  work  the  slave 
was  badly  beaten,  and  it  was  in  this  condition  that  his 
real  owner  found  him.  The  real  owner  secured  the  ar- 
rest of  the  would-be  thief,  in  the  name  of  the  slave,  and 
so  the  story  of  the  “equality  before  the  law”  of  the  slave 
and  master  went  out  to  the  world. 

The  important  thing,  however,  is  not  the  laughable 
mistakes  of  Mr.  Hearst’s  writers,  but  the  wherefore  of 
Mr.  Hearst’s  putting  his  printing  presses  so  unreservedly 
into  the  service  of  a man  and  a system  such  as  he  would 
not  defend  for  a moment  were  they  to  be  found  in  any 
other  country. 

But  let  us  mention  a few  more  publications  which  have 
put  themselves  in  the  same  class  as  Mr.  Hearst’s  maga- 
zine. There  is  Sunset  Magazine.  In  February,  1910,  it 
began  a series  of  articles  by  “Gasper  Estrada  Gonzalez,” 
who  is  announced  as  “a  stateman  who  is  very  close  to 
Diaz.”  There  were  three  articles  of  fawning  flattery. 
Followed  an  article  by  Herman  Whitaker,  in  which  he 
praised  Diaz  to  the  skies  and  absolved  him  from  all 
blame  for  the  slave  atrocities  of  Mexico.  Then  came  an 
article  by  a man  named  Murray,  who  wrote  to  justify 
Diaz’s  extermination  of  the  Yaquis. 

Moody’s  Magazine  ran  a series  of  articles  under  the 
title,  “Mexico  as  it  Is,”  in  which  the  writer  attempted  to 
neutralize  the  effect  of  “Barbarous  Mexico”  upon  the 
public  conscience.  I have  already  mentioned  defenses 
which  were  published  in  the  Bankers’  Magazine  and  in 
the  Mining  World.  In  addition,  The  Overland  Monthly, 
The  Exporter,  many  newspapers — like  the  Los  Angeles 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


245 


Times — and  various  smaller  publications,  as  well  as 
many  private  individuals  and  a book  publisher  or  two 
took  up  the  work  of  defending  their  friend  Diaz. 

As  to  the  book  defense  against  “Barbarous  Mexico,” 
little  has  appeared  so  far,  doubtless  because  of  the 
shortness  of  time,  but  there  are  reports  that  several 
books  are  on  their  way.  One  of  these,  it  is  said,  is  to  be 
by  James  Creelman,  who  left  the  employ  of  Pearson’s 
Magazine  at  the  call  of  Diaz,  hurried  to  Mexico  from 
Turkey,  and  spent  several  weeks  going  over  the  route 
I described  in  my  articles,  in  order  that  he  might  be 
able  to  “refute”  me  with  verisimilitude,  no  doubt. 

The  book  “Porfirio  Diaz,”  written  by  Jose  F.  Godoy, 
whom  Diaz  recently  appointed  as  his  minister  to  Cuba, 
though  it  does  not  refer  to  my  exposures  in  any  way, 
was  quite  likely  hurried  out  because  of  them.  Here  is 
a very  expensively  printed  book,  containing  nothing  that 
has  not  been  printed  repeatedly  before,  except — seventy 
pages  of  endorsements  of  Diaz  written  by  prominent 
Americans.  Here  we  have  the  case  of  a man,  Mr.  Godoy, 
who  actually  went  about — or  sent  about — among  sena- 
tors, congressmen,  diplomats  and  cabinet  officers,  solicit- 
ing kind  words  for  President  Diaz.  And  he  got  them. 
In  looking  over  this  book  it  seems  to  me  that  almost  any 
discriminating  persons  would  be  moved  to  inquire  what 
moved  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons  to  issue  that  book.  Surely 
it  was  not  entirely  the  hope  of  profitable  sales  to  the 
general  public. 

I know  of  only  one  book  of  criticism  of  the  Diaz  sys- 
tem that  was  put  out  by  a regular  American  publisher, 
and  the  criticism  in  that  book  was  so  veiled  and  so  in- 
terspersed with  flattery  that  the  American  reviewers 
took  it  for  one  of  the  old  adulatory  sort.  Only  one  of 


246 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


them,  so  the  author  himself  told  me,  was  discerning 
enough  to  see  that  it  was  a book  of  criticism.  “I  wrote 
the  book  that  way,”  the  author  said  to  me,  “in  the  hope 
that  it  would  be  allowed  to  circulate  in  Mexico.” 

But  the  officials  of  the  Mexican  government  were 
more  discerning  than  the  American  book  reviewers  and 
the  book  was  not  allowed  to  circulate.  Not  only  that, 
but  quite  suddenly  and  mysteriously  it  disappeared  from 
the  stores  in  this  country  and  very  soon  was  not  to  be 
had.  Had  the  book  disappeared  because  it  was  bought 
by  the  public,  the  publishers  would  be  expected  to  print 
a second  edition,  but  this  they  declined  to  do  and,  though 
flatly  asserting  that  the  work  was  not  again  to  appear, 
they  also  declined  to  give  the  author  or  other  inquirers 
further  satisfaction.  The  book  I refer  to  was  the  one 
entitled  “Porfirio  Diaz,”  written  by  Rafael  DeZayas 
Enriquez  and  issued  by  D.  Appleton  & Co.,  in  1908. 

Carlo  de  Fornaro,  a Mexican  newspaperman,  or 
rather,  a native  of  Italy  who  had  spent  two  years  in 
newspaper  work  in  Mexico  City,  also  wrote  a book, 
“Diaz,  Czar  of  Mexico,”  printing  it  himself  because  he 
could  not  find  a regular  publisher.  It  was  refused  cir- 
culation in  Mexico  and  action  for  criminal  libel  was  at 
once  begun  against  Fornaro  in  the  New  York  courts. 
To  bring  this  suit,  the  editor  of  Diaz’s  leading  news- 
paper, El  Imparcial,  with  Joaquin  Casasus,  the  most 
prominent  lawyer  of  Mexico  and  former  ambassador  to 
the  United  States,  hurried  from  the  Mexican  capital. 
Among  the  American  lawyers  employed  as  special  pros- 
ecutors was  Henry  W.  Taft,  brother  of  the  president 
and  counsel  of  the  National  Railways  of  Mexico.  For- 
naro, being  without  the  means  to  bring  witnesses  from 
Mexico  to  support  the  charges  made  in  his  book,  was 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


247 


convicted,  sent  to  prison  for  one  year  and  the  book  was 
thereafter  not  circulated  in  the  regular  way.  In  fact, 
immediately  after  the  arrest  of  Fornaro  for  some  reason 
the  New  York  book  stores,  at  least,  refused  longer  to 
handle  the  work.  The  Fornaro  incident  occurred  in 
1909. 

Perhaps  even  a more  remarkable  incident  still  was  that 
of  the  suppression  of  “Yucatan,  the  American  Egypt,” 
written  by  Tabor  and  Frost,  Englishmen.  After  being 
printed  in  England  this  book  was  put  out  in  this  coun- 
try by  Doubleday,  Page  & Co.,  one  of  our  largest  and 
most  respectable  publishers.  It  was  put  out  in  expen- 
sive form  and,  in  the  natural  course  of  the  book  trade, 
should  have  been  purchasable  for  years  after  it  left  the 
presses.  But  within  six  months  the  publishers,  replying 
to  a would-be  purchaser,  asserted  that  the  book  “ has 
gone  out  of  print  and  absolutely  no  copies  are  available!” 
I have  the  letter  myself.  The  book  was  almost  entirely 
about  the  ancient  ruins  of  Yucatan,  but  it  contained  a 
score  or  so  of  pages  exposing  the  slavery  of  the  henc- 
quen  plantations — and  it  had  to  go.  What  sort  of  argu- 
ment was  used  upon  our  esteemed  and  respectable  pub- 
lishers to  cause  them  to  withdraw  the  book  can  be  imag- 
ined. 

These  instances  are  added  to  the  others  to  show  what 
happens  when  a writer  does  succeed  in  getting  an  ex- 
pose of  the  Diaz  system  into  print.  In  this  book  which 
I am  writing  I am  doing  my  best  to  bring  out  the  most 
important  facts  and  at  the  same  time  avoid  giving  valid 
grounds  for  action  at  libel.  When  it  appears  there  will 
be  no  legal  reason  why  it  should  not  be  circulated  as  the 
majority  of  books  are  circulated.  Nevertheless,  if  it  is 
extensively  offered  for  sale  in  the  usual  way  it  will  be 


248 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  first  extended  criticism  of  Diaz  and  his  system  to 
be  put  squarely  before  the  American  people.  And  the 
reason  for  its  being  the  first  will  be  not  because  there 
have  not  been  facts  that  begged  to  be  printed  and  writers 
that  desired  to  print  those  facts,  but  because  of  that 
“skilfully  applied  influence  upon  journalism”  which  Gen- 
eral Diaz  exerts  in  our  land  of  free  speech  and  free 
press. 

Again  I come  back  to  the  question:  What  is  the 

source  of  that  “influence  upon  journalism?”  Why  do 
citizens  of  the  United  States,  who  profess  a reverence 
for  the  principles  for  which  their  forefathers  of  76 
fought,  who  claim  to  revere  Abraham  Lincoln  most  of  all 
for  his  Emancipation  Proclamation,  who  shudder  at  the 
labor-baiting  of  the  Congo,  at  the  horrors  of  Russia’s 
Siberia,  at  the  political  system  of  Czar  Nicholas,  apolo- 
gize for  and  defend  a more  cruel  slavery,  a worse  politi- 
cal oppression,  a more  complete  and  terrible  despotism 
— in  Mexico? 

To  this  question  there  is  only  one  conceivable  answer, 
that  for  the  sake  of  sordid  profits  principles  of  decency 
and  humanity,  principles  which  are  universally  conceded 
as  being  best  for  the  progress  of  the  world,  have  been 
set  aside. 

By  this  I do  not  mean  that  all  of  the  Americans  who 
have  expressed  admiration  for  General  Diaz  have  been 
directly  bribed  to  do  so  by  gifts  of  so  many  dollars  and 
so  many  cents.  By  no  means.  Some  publishers  and 
some  writers  have  undoubtedly  been  bought  in  this  way. 
But  the  vast  majority  of  the  active  flatterers  of  Diaz 
have  been  moved  by  nothing  more  than  “business  rea- 
sons,” which,  by  some  persons,  will  be  considered  as 
little  different  from  bribery.  As  to  the  great  mass  of  the 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


249 


Americans  who  think  well  of  Diaz,  and  sometimes  speak 
well  of  him — as  distinct  from  what  I have  called  the 
“active  flatterers” — they  have  simply  been  fooled,  de- 
ceived by  the  consistent  press  campaign  which  the  oth- 
ers have  kept  up  for,  lo,  these  many  years. 

Such  American  planters  as  those  whom  I have  quoted 
as  defending  the  Diaz  system  of  slavery  may  have  been 
moved  by  nothing  more  reprehensible  than  a desire  to 
prevent  my  exposures  from  “hurting  the  country,”  or 
“hurting  business,”  meaning  their  business.  In  fact, 
I was  much  surprised  that  so  many  actual  residents  of 
Mexico  came  forward  in  support  of  my  statements  as 
did,  inasmuch  as  nearly  every  American  in  Mexico  has 
some  land  which  he  has  obtained  for  a very  low  price — 
or  for  nothing  at  all — and  which  he  wishes  to  sell  at 
a profit.  Or  he  has  a stock-selling  scheme,  in  a rubber 
plantation,  for  example,  with  which  he  is  trying  to  se- 
cure the  good  money  of  widows  and  orphans,  poor 
school  teachers,  small  business  men  and  working  peo- 
ple. Just  as  the  average  American  real  estate  boomer 
“boosts  his  town,”  decries  exposures  of  political  cor- 
ruption as  “hurting  business,”  even  suppresses  news  of 
plague,  earthquake  fatalities  and  such  things,  so  the 
American  in  Mexico,  knowing  that  exposures  of  slavery 
and  political  instability  will  frighten  away  investments 
and  perhaps  lose  him  some  profitable  deals,  seldom  hes- 
itates to  argue  that  political  and  industrial  conditions  in 
the  country  are  ideal.  The  more  property  a man  owns 
in  Mexico  the  less  likely  is  he  to  tell  the  truth  about 
the  country. 

As  to  the  American  publishers,  the  “business  reasons” 
are  usually  found  either  in  the  interest  of  the  publisher 
himself  in  some  property  or  “concession”  in  Mexico, 


250 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


or  in  his  business  connection  with  some  other  persons 
of  means  who  hold  such  properties  or  such  concessions- 
And  through  one  or  the  other  of  these  avenues  un- 
doubtedly nearly  all  of  our  largest  publishers,  of  books, 
magazines  or  newspapers,  are  touched.  The  situation 
in  my  home  town  may  be  a little  exceptional,  but  from 
it  may  be  guessed  the  extent  of  the  “skilfully  applied 
influence”  of  Diaz  that  probably  extends  over  the  whole 
country.  I reside  in  Los  Angeles,  California,  where 
there  are  five  daily  newspapers.  At  the  time  of  the 
high-handed  persecutions  of  Magon,  Villarreal  and  Riv- 
era, Sarabia,  De  Lara,  Modesto  Diaz,  Arizmendez, 
Ulibarri  and  other  Mexicans,  political  enemies  of  Diaz, 
in  1907,  it  became  plain  that  the  muzzle  was  on  all  of 
those  newspapers.  Suspicion  was  confirmed  by  a man- 
aging editor  of  one  of  them,  who  said  in  confidence  to 
me  and  to  others : 

“The  ncivspapers  of  this  town  could  get  those  men  out 
of  jail  in  twenty-four  hours  if  they  went  at  it.  But  they 
won’t  go  at  it  because  the  owners  of  all  five  are  inter- 
ested in  concessions  in  Mexico.  You  see  we’re  up  against 
it.  We  don’t  dare  to  say  a word,  for  if  we  did  Diaz 
would  get  back  at  us.” 

Two  of  these  newspaper  owners  were  Mr.  Hearst 
himself  and  Harrison  Gray  Otis,  the  latter  proprietor  of 
the  well  known  Los  Angeles  Times.  Each  of  these  men 
own  more  than  a million  acres  of  Mexican  land,  which 
they  are  generally  credited  with  securing  from  the  Mex- 
ican government  for  nothing  or  practically  nothing.  In 
addition  to  owning  a magnificent  stock  ranch,  Mr. 
Hearst  owns  vast  oil  lands  and,  in  addition,  is  credited 
with  being  involved  financially  with  the  Southern  Pacific 
Railroad  Company,  which  is  one  of  the  hugest  bene- 
ficiaries of  the  Diaz  government.  As  to  the  magnifi- 


THE  DIAZ-AMERICAN  PRESS  CONSPIRCY 


251 


cence  of  Mr.  Hearst’s  stock  ranch,  permit  me  to  repro- 
duce an  item  which  was  published  in  the  Mexican  Her- 
ald, August  24,  1908. 

IS  WONDERFUL  ESTATE. 

HEARST  HOLDINGS  IN  CHIHUAHUA 
SMALL  EMPIRE. 

IS  OVER  MILLION  ACRES. 

Within  the  Enclosure  Graze  60,000  Herefords  and  125,000 

Head  of  Sheep — Thousands  of  Horses  and  Hogs  are  Raised 

There. 

“With  over  a million  acres  of  the  finest  agricultural  and 
grazing  land,  with  large  herds  of  blooded  cattle,  horses  and 
sheep,  roaming  over  this  vast  domain,  the  big  Hearst  cattle 
ranch  and  farm  in  Chihuahua  is  the  peer  of  any  such  estate  in 
the  world,  whether  it  lies  in  the  great  corn  belt  of  Illinois  or 
Kansas,  or  stretches  for  miles  across  the  wind-swept  prairies  of 
Texas  or  Oklahoma.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  barbed 
wire  fence  enclose  a portion  of  this  vast  ranch  and  within  the 
enclosure  graze  60,000  thoroughbred  Herefords,  125,000  fine 
sheep,  and  many  thousand  head  of  horses  and  hogs.  A modern, 
up-to-date  ranch  and  farm,  whose  crops  are  unexcelled  in  the 
world,  and  whose  stock  is  famous  from  end  to  end  of  the 
Republic,  this  ranch  is  convincing  evidence  of  the  great  future 
which  is  in  store  for  the  agricultural  and  stock  raising  industry 
of  Mexico.” 

Thus  spoke  E.  Kirby  Smith,  a well-known  planter  of  Cam- 
peche, who  is  spending  a few  days  in  the  city.  Mr.  Kirby 
Smith  has  just  returned  from  an  extended  trip  into  Chihuahua, 
where  he  spent  several  days  on  the  great  Hearst  ranch. 

“This  ranch,”  said  Mr.  Kirby  Smith,  “is  typical  of  the  great 
modern  stock  farms  and  presents  a glorious  picture  as  to  what 
may  be  expected  from  enterprises  of  this  character,  if  properly 
conducted,  in  this  Republic.  The  stock  is  of  the  best.  Imported 
jacks  and  stallions,  thoroughbred  brood  mares  and  thoroughbred 
cattle  dot  the  ranch  from  end  to  end. 

“Vast  amounts  of  corn  and  potatoes  are  raised,  and  in  potatoes 
alone  fortunes  are  going  to  be  made  by  the  farmers  of  northern 
Mexico.” 


252 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


As  to  the  Sunset  Magazine,  it  is  owned  outright  by 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad  company,  and  Moody’s 
Magazine,  the  Bankers’  Magazine,  The  Exporter,  and 
the  Mining  World  are  all  known  to  be  dominated  by 
Wall  street  Interests.  And  what,  pray,  have  the  South- 
ern Pacific  Railroad  and  Wall  street  to  do  with  Diaz  and 
Mexico  ? 

The  answer  is — everything.  While  Wall  street  has 
more  or  less  conflicting  interests  in  the  looting  of  the 
United  States,  Wall  street  is  ONE  when  it  comes  to  the 
looting  of  Mexico.  This  is  the  chief  reason  why  Amer- 
ican publishers  are  so  nearly  one  when  it  comes  to  the 
flattering  of  Diaz.  Wall  street  and  Diaz  are  business 
partners  and  the  American  press  is  an  appendage  of  the 
Diaz  press  bureau.  Through  ownership  and  near  owner- 
ship of  magazines,  newspapers  and  publishing  houses, 
and  through  the  power  of  shifting  advertising  patron- 
age, Wall  street  has  up  to  this  moment  been  able  to 
suppress  the  truth  and  maintain  a lie  about  Diaz  and 
Mexico. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 

The  United  States  is  a partner  in  the  slavery  of  Mex- 
ico. After  freeing  his  black  slaves  Uncle  Sam,  at  the 
end  of  half  a century,  has  become  a slaver  again.  Un- 
cle Sam  has  gone  to  slave-driving  in  a foreign  country. 

No,  I shall  not  charge  this  to  Uncle  Sam,  the  genial, 
liberty-loving  fellow  citizen  of  our  childhood.  I would 
rather  say  that  Uncle  Sam  is  dead  and  that  another  is 
masquerading  in  his  place — a counterfeit  Uncle  Sam 
who  has  so  far  deceived  the  people  into  believing  that 
he  is  the  real  one.  It  is  that  person  whom  I charge  with 
being  a slaver. 

This  is  a strong  statement,  but  I believe  that  the  facts 
justify  it.  The  United  States  is  responsible  in  part  for 
the  extension  of  the  system  of  slavery  in  Mexico;  sec- 
ond, it  is  responsible  as  the  determining  force  in  the 
continuation  of  that  slavery;  third,  it  is  responsible 
knowingly  for  these  things. 

When  I say  the  United  States  I do  not  mean  a few 
minor  and  irresponsible  American  officials.  Nor  do  I 
mean  the  American  nation — which,  in  my  humble  judg- 
ment, is  unjustly  charged  with  the  crimes  of  some  per- 
sons over  whom,  under  conditions  as  they  exist,  it  has 
no  control.  I use  the  term  in  its  most  literal  and  exact 
sense.  I mean  the  organized  power  which  officially  rep- 
resents this  country  at  home  and  abroad.  I mean  the 
Federal  Government  and  the  Interests  that  control  the 
Federal  Government. 

Adherents  of  a certain  political  cult  in  this  country 
are  wont  to  declare  that  chattel  slavery  was  abolished  in 

253 


254 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  United  States  because  it  ceased  to  be  profitable. 
Without  commenting  on  the  truth  or  fallacy  of  this  as- 
sertion, I aver  that  there  are  plenty  of  Americans  who 
are  prepared  to  prove  that  slavery  is  profitable  in  Mex- 
ico. Because  it  is  considered  profitable,  these  Ameri- 
cans have,  in  various  ways,  had  a hand  in  the  extension 
of  the  institution.  Desiring  to  perpetuate  Mexican 
slavery  and  considering  General  Diaz  a necessary  factor 
in  that  perpetuation,  they  have  given  him  their  undivided 
support.  By  their  control  of  the  press  they  have  glori- 
fied his  name,  when  otherwise  his  name  should  be  by 
right  a stench  in  the  nostrils  of  the  world.  But  they 
have  gone  much  farther  than  this.  By  their  control  of 
the  political  machinery  of  their  government,  the  United 
States  government,  they  have  held  him  in  his  place  when 
otherwise  he  would  have  fallen.  Most  effectively  has 
the  police  power  of  this  country  been  used  to  destroy 
a movement  of  Mexicans  for  the  abolition  of  Mexican 
slavery  and  to  keep  the  chief  slave-driver  of  Barbarous 
Mexico,  Porfirio  Dias,  upon  his  throne. 

Still  another  step  can  we  go  in  these  generalizations. 
By  making  itself  an  indispensable  factor  in  bis  continua- 
tion in  the  governmental  power,  through  its  business 
partnership,  its  press  conspiracy  and  its  police  and  mil- 
itary alliance,  the  United  States  has  virtually  reduced 
Diaz  to  a political  dependency,  and  by  so  doing  has  vir- 
tually transformed  Mexico  into  a slave  colony  of  the 
United  States. 

As  I have  already  suggested,  these  are  generalizations, 
but  if  I did  not  believe  that  the  facts  set  forth  in  this  and 
the  succeeding  chapter  fully  justified  each  and  every 
one  of  them,  I would  not  make  them. 

Pardon  me  for  again  referring  to  the  remarkable  de- 
fense of  Mexican  slavery  and  Mexican  despotism  which 


DIAZ  AND  TAFT  PHOTOGRAPHED  TOGETHER  AT  EL  PASO.  TEXAS 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 


255 


we  find  in  the  United  States,  inasmuch  as  it  is  itself  a 
strong  presumption  of  guilty  partnership  in  that  slavery 
and  despotism.  What  publication  or  individual  in  the 
United  States,  pray  you,  was  ever  known  to  defend  the 
system  of  political  oppression  in  Russia?  What  publi- 
cation or  individual  in  the  United  States  was  ever  known 
to  excuse  the  slave  atrocities  of  the  Congo  Free  State? 
How  many  Americans  are  in  the  habit  of  singing  paeans 
of  praise  to  Czar  Nicholas  or  the  late  King  Leopold? 

Americans  of  whatever  class  not  only  do  not  dare  to 
do  these  things,  but  they  do  not  care  to  do  them.  But 
what  a difference  when  it  comes  to  Mexico!  Here 
slavery  is  sacred.  Here  autocracy  is  deified. 

It  will  not  do  to  deny  the  honesty  of  the  comparison  be- 
tween Mexico  and  Russia  or  the  Congo.  For  every 
worshipper  of  Diaz  knows  that  he  is  an  autocrat  and 
a slave-driver  and  enough  of  them  admit  it  to  leave  no 
ground  for  doubt  that  they  know  it. 

What,  then,  is  the  reason  for  this  strange  diversion 
of  attitude?  Why  do  so  many  prostrate  themselves  be- 
fore the  Czar  of  Mexico  and  none  prostrate  themselves 
before  the  Czar  of  Russia?  Why  is  America  flooded 
with  books  hailing  the  Mexican  autocrat  as  the  greatest 
man  of  the  age  while  it  is  impossible  to  buy  a single  book, 
regularly  published  and  circulated,  that  seriously  criti- 
cizes him? 

The  inference  is  inevitable  that  it  is  because  Diaz  is 
the  Golden  Calf  in  but  another  form,  that  Americans 
are  profiting  by  Mexican  slavery  and  are  exerting  them- 
selves to  maintain  it. 

But  there  are  easily  provable  facts  that  carry  us  far 
beyond  any  mere  inference,  however  logical  it  may  be. 

What  is  the  most  universal  reply  that  has  been  made 
to  my  criticisms  of  Mexico  and  Mexico’s  ruler?  That 


256 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


there  are  $900,000,000  of  American  capital  invested  in 
Mexico. 

To  the  Powers  that  Be  in  the  United  States  the  nine 
hundred  million  dollars  of  American  capital  form  a con- 
clusive argument  against  any  criticism  of  President  Diaz. 
They  are  an  overwhelming  defense  of  Mexican  slavery. 

“Hush!  Hush!”  the  word  goes  about.  “Why,  we  have 
nine  hundred  million  dollars  grinding  out  profits  down 
there!”  And  the  American  publishers  obediently  hush. 

In  that  $900,000,000  of  American  capital  in  Mexico 
is  to  be  found  the  full  explanation  not  only  of  the 
American  defense  of  the  Mexican  government,  but  also 
of  the  political  dependency  of  Diaz  upon  the  Powers 
that  Be  in  this  country.  Wherever  capital  flows  capital 
controls  the  government.  This  doctrine  is  recognized 
everywhere  and  by  all  men  who  have  as  much  as  half 
an  eye  for  the  lessons  that  the  world  is  writing.  The 
last  decade  or  two  has  proved  it  in  every  country  where 
large  aggregations  of  capital  have  gathered. 

No  wonder  there  is  a growing  anti-American  senti- 
ment in  Mexico.  The  Mexican  people  are  naturally 
patriotic.  They  have  gone  through  tremendous  trials 
to  throw  off  the  foreign  yoke  in  past  generations  and 
they  are  unwilling  to  bend  beneath  the  foreign  yoke  to- 
day. They  want  the  opportunity  of  working  out  their 
own  national  destiny  as  a separate  people.  They  look 
upon  the  United  States  as  a great  colossus  which  is 
about  to  seize  them  and  bend  them  to  its  will. 

And  they  are  right.  American  capital  in  Mexico  will 
not  be  denied.  The  partnership  of  Diaz  and  American 
capital  has  wrecked  Mexico  as  a national  entity.  The 
United  States  government,  as  long  as  it  represents  Amer- 
ican capital — and  the  most  rampant  hypocrite  will  hardly 
deny  that  it  does  today — will  have  a deciding  voice  in 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ  257 

Mexican  affairs.  From  the  viewpoint  of  patriotic  Mex- 
icans the  outlook  is  melancholy  indeed. 

Let  us  cast  our  eyes  over  Mexico  and  see  what  some 
of  that  $900,000,000  of  American  capital  is  doing  there. 

The  Morgan-Guggenheim  copper  merger  is  in  abso- 
lute control  of  the  copper  output  of  Mexico. 

M.  Guggenheim  Sons  own  all  the  large  smelters  in 
Mexico,  as  well  as  vast  mining  properties.  They  occupy 
the  same  powerful  position  in  the  mining  industry  gen- 
erally in  Mexico  as  they  occupy  in  the  United  States. 

The  Standard  Oil  company,  under  the  name  of  the 
Waters-Pierce,  with  many  subsidiary  corporations,  con- 
trols a vastly  major  portion  of  the  crude  oil  flow  of  Mex- 
ico. It  controls  a still  greater  portion  of  the  wholesale 
and  retail  trade  in  oil — ninety  per  cent  of  it,  so  its  man- 
agers claim.  At  the  present  writing  there  is  an  oil  war 
in  Mexico  caused  by  an  attempt  of  the  only  other  oil 
distributing  concern  in  the  country — controlled  by  the 
Pearsons — to  force  the  Standard  to  buy  it  out  at  a 
favorable  price.  The  situation  predicts  an  early  victory 
for  the  Standard,  after  which  its  monopoly  will  be  com- 
plete. 

Agents  of  the  American  Sugar  Trust  have  just  se- 
cured from  the  Federal  and  State  governments  conces- 
sions for  the  production  of  sugar  beets  and  beet  sugar 
so  favorable  as  to  insure  it  a complete  monopoly  of  the 
Mexican  sugar  business  within  the  next  ten  years. 

The  Inter-Continental  Rubber  company — in  other 
words,  The  American  Rubber  Trust — is  in  possession  of 
millions  of  acres  of  rubber  lands,  the  best  in  Mexico. 

The  Wells-Fargo  Express  company,  the  property  of 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad,  through  its  partnership 
with  the  government,  holds  an  absolute  monopoly  of 
the  express  carrying  business  of  Mexico. 


258 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


E.  N.  Brown,  president  of  the  National  Railways  of 
Mexico  and  a satellite  of  H.  Clay  Pierce  and  the  late 
E.  H.  Harriman,  is  a member  of  the  board  of  directors 
of  the  Banco  Nacional,  which  is  by  far  the  largest  finan- 
cial institution  in  Mexico,  a concern  that  has  over  fifty 
branches,  in  which  all  the  chief  members  of  the  Diaz 
financial  camarilla  are  interested  and  through  which  finan- 
cial deals  of  the  Mexican  government  are  transacted. 

Finally,  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad  and  allied  Har- 
riman heirs,  despite  the  much  vaunted  government  rail- 
way merger,  own  outright  or  control  by  virtue  of  near- 
ownership, three-fourths  of  the  main  line  railway  mile- 
age of  Mexico,  which  enables  it  today  to  impose  as  ab- 
solute a monopoly  in  restraint  of  trade  as  exists  in  the 
case  of  any  railway  combination  in  the  United  States. 

These  are  merely  some  of  the  largest  aggregations  of 
American  capital  in  Mexico.  For  example,  the  Harri- 
man heirs  own  two  and  one-half  millions  acres  of  oil 
land  in  the  Tampico  country,  and  a number  of  other 
Americans  own  properties  running  into  the  millions  of 
acres.  Americans  are  involved  in  the  combinations 
which  control  the  flour  and  meat  trades  of  Mexico. 
The  purely  trade  interests  are  themselves  considerable. 
Eighty  per  cent  of  Mexican  exports  come  to  the  United 
States  and  sixty-six  per  cent  of  Mexican  imports  are 
sent  to  her  by  us,  the  American  trade  with  Mexico 
totaling  some  $75,000,000  a year. 

So  you  see  how  it  is  in  Mexico.  The  Americanization 
of  Mexico  of  which  Wall  Street  boasts,  is  being  accom- 
plished and  accomplished  with  a vengeance. 

It  were  hardly  worth  while  to  pause  at  this  juncture 
and  discuss  the  question  why  Mexicans  did  not  get  in 
on  the  ground  floor  and  control  these  industries.  It  is 
not,  as  numerous  writers  would  have  us  believe,  be- 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ  259 

cause  Americans  are  the  only  intelligent  people  in  the 
world  and  because  God  made  Mexicans  a stupid  peo- 
ple and  intended  that  they  should  be  governed  by  their 
superiors.  One  very  good  reason  why  Diaz  delivered 
his  country  into  the  hands  of  Americans  was  that  Amer- 
icans had  more  money  to  pay  for  special  privileges.  And 
Americans  had  more  money  because,  while  all  Mexicans 
were  becoming  impoverished  by  the  war  for  the  over- 
throw of  the  foreigner,  Maximilian,  thousands  of  Amer- 
icans were  making  fortunes  by  means  of  grafting  army 
contracts  involved  in  our  Civil  War. 

Let  me  present  an  instance  or  two  of  the  way  in  which 
Americans  are  contributing  to  the  extension  of  slavery. 

Take  the  Yaqui  atrocities,  for  example.  Vice-presi- 
dent Corral,  who  was  then  in  control  of  the  government 
of  the  state  of  Sonora,  stirred  up  a Yaqui  war  because 
he  saw  an  opportunity  to  get  the  Yaqui  lands  and  sell 
them  at  a good  price  to  American  capitalists.  The 
Yaqui  country  is  rich  in  both  mining  and  agricultural 
possibilities.  American  capitalists  bought  the  lands 
while  the  Yaquis  were  still  on  them,  then  stimulated 
the  war  of  extermination  and  finally  instigated  the 
scheme  to  deport  them  into  slavery  in  Yucatan. 

But  American  capital  did  not  stop  even  there.  It  fol- 
lowed the  Yaqui  zoomen  and  children  away  from  their 
homes.  It  sazo  families  dismembered,  women  forced 
into  wifehood  with  Chinamen,  men  beaten  to  death.  It 
saw  these  things,  encouraged  them  and  covered  them  up 
from  the  eyes  of  the  world  because  of  its  interest  in  the 
price  of  sisal  hemp,  because  it  feared  that  with  the  pass- 
ing of  slave  labor  the  price  of  sisal  hemp  would  rise. 
The  American  Cordage  Trust,  a ramification  of  Stand- 
ard Oil,  absorbs  over  half  the  henequen  erport  of  Yu- 


260 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


catan.  The  Standard  Oil  press  declares  there  is  no  slav- 
ery in  Mexico.  Governor  Fred  N.  Warner,  of  Michi- 
gan, publicly  denied  my  expose  of  slavery  in  Yucatan. 
Governor  Warner  is  interested  in  contracts  involving 
the  purchase  annually  of  half  a million  dollars  worth 
of  sisal  hemp  from  the  slave  kings  of  Yucatan. 

Also,  Americans  work  the  slaves — buy  them,  drive 
them,  lock  them  up  at  night,  beat  them,  kill  them,  ex- 
actly as  do  other  employers  of  labor  in  Mexico.  And 
they  admit  that  they  do  these  things.  In  my  possession 
are  scores  of  admissions  by  American  planters  that  they 
employ  labor  which  is  essentially  slave  labor.  All  over 
the  tropical  section  of  Mexico,  on  the  plantations  of  rub- 
ber, sugar-cane,  tropical  fruits — everywhere — you  will 
find  Americans  buying,  beating,  imprisoning,  killing 
slaves. 

Let  me  quote  you  just  one  interview  I had  with  a 
well  known  and  popular  American  of  Diaz’s  metropolis, 
a man  who  for  five  years  ran  a large  plantation  near 
Santa  Lucrecia 

“When  we  needed  a lot  of  enganchados  he  told  me, 
“all  we  had  to  do  was  to  wire  to  one  of  the  numerous 
cnganchadorcs  in  Mexico,  saying:  ‘We  want  so  many 
men  and  so  many  women  on  such  and  such  a day.’  Some- 
times we’d  call  for  three  or  four  hundred,  but  the  en- 
ganchadores  would  never  fail  to  deliver  the  full  number 
on  the  dot.  We  paid  fifty  pesos  apiece  for  them,  reject- 
ing those  that  didn’t  look  good  to  us,  and  that  was  all 
there  was  to  it.  We  always  kept  them  as  long  as  they 
lasted. 

“It’s  healthier  down  there  than  it  is  right  here  in  the 
city  of  Mexico,”  he  told  me.  “If  you  have  the  means  to 
take  care  of  yourself  you  can  keep  as  well  there  as  you 
can  anywhere  on  earth.” 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ  261 

Less  than  five  minutes  after  making  this  statement  he 
told  me : 

“Yes,  I remember  a lot  of  three  hundred  cnganchados 
we  received  one  Spring.  In  less  than  three  months  we 
buried  more  than  half  of  them.” 

The  hand  of  the  American  slave-driver  of  Mexico  has 
been  known  to  reach  out  for  its  victims  even  as  far  as 
his  own  home — the  United  States.  During  my  travels 
in  Mexico,  in  order  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
the  common  people,  I spent  most  of  my  traveling  days 
in  second  or  third  class  cars.  Riding  in  a third  class 
car  between  Tierra  Blanca  and  Veracruz  one  night,  I 
spied  an  American  negro  sitting  in  a corner. 

“I  wonder  if  they  ever  caught  him  down  here?”  I 
said  to  myself.  “I’ll  find  out.” 

Tom  West,  a free-born  Kentucky  negro  of  twenty- 
five,  hesitated  to  admit  that  he  had  ever  been  a slave. 
But  he  confessed  gradually. 

“Ah  was  workin’  in  a brick  yahd  in  Kaintucky  at  two 
dollahs  a day,”  was  the  way  Tom  put  it,  “when  anothah 
cullahd  man  come  along  an’  tole  me  he  knowed  where 
Ah  cud  get  three  seventy-five  a day.  Ah  said  ‘Ah’m  with 
ye.’  So  he  hands  me  one  o’  them  book  prospectuses 
an’  the  next  day  he  tuk  me  to  the  office  o’  the  company 
an’  they  said  the  same  thing — three  seventy-five  Amer- 
ican money,  or  seven  an’  a half  Mex ! So  Ah  come  with 
eighty  othah  cullahd  folks  by  way  o’  Tampa,  Florida, 
and  Veracruz,  down  here  to  a coffee  and  rubbah  planta- 
tion at  La  Junta,  near  Santa  Lucrecia,  Oaxaca. 

“Seven  and  a half  a day!  Huh!  Seven  an’  a half! 
That’s  just  what  they  paid  me  when  they  let  me  go— • 
aftah  two  yeahs!  Ah  run  away  twict,  but  they  ketched 
me  and  brung  me  back.  Did  they  beat  me  ? Naw,  they 
beat  lots  o’  othahs,  but  they  nevah  beat  me.  Ah  yeh, 


262 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


they  batted  me  a few  times  with  a stick,  but  Ah  wouldn’t 
a let  ’em  beat  me ; no  suh,  not  me !” 

The  plantation  that  caught  Tom  West,  Kentuckian, 
was  an  American  plantation.  Some  months  after  talk- 
ing with  Tom  I happened  to  hold  a conversation  with  a 
man  who  identified  himself  as  Tom’s  master  after  I 
had  told  him  Tom’s  story. 

“Those  niggers,”  this  American  told  me,  “were  an 
experiment  that  didn’t  turn  out  very  well.  They  must 
have  been  ours,  for  I don’t  know  of  anybody  else  down 
that  way  that  had  them  at  the  time  of  which  you  speak. 
The  seven  and  a half  a day?  Oh,  the  agents  told  ’em 
anything  to  get  them.  That  was  none  of  our  business. 
We  simply  bought  them  and  paid  for  them  and  then 
made  them  work  out  their  purchase  price  before  we  gave 
them  any  money.  Yes,  we  kept  them  under  lock  and 
key  at  night  and  had  to  guard  them  with  guns  in  the 
daytime.  When  they  tried  to  make  a break  we’d  tie 
’em  up  and  give  ’em  a good  dressing  down  with  a club. 
The  authorities?  We  chummed  with  the  authorities. 
They  were  our  friends.” 

The  partnership  of  American  capital  with  President 
Diaz  not  only  puts  at  its  disposal  a system  of  slave  labor, 
but  also  permits  it  to  utilize  the  system  of  peonage  and 
to  beat  the  class  of  wage-laborers  down  to  the  lowest 
point  of  subsistence.  Where  slavery  does  not  exist  in 
Mexico  you  find  peonage,  a mild  form  of  slavery,  or 
you  find  cheap  wage-labor.  Diaz’s  ruralcs  shot  Colonel 
Greene’s  copper  miners  into  submission  and  threats  of 
imprisonment  put  an  end  to  the  great  strike  on  an  Amer- 
ican-Mexican  railroad.  American  capitalists  boast  of  the 
fact  that  their  Diaz  “does  not  permit  any  foolishness 
on  the  part  of  these  labor  unions.”  In  such  facts  as 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 


263 


these  are  found  the  reason  for  their  hysterical  defense 
of  him. 

I shall  briefly  outline  the  railroad  situation  in  Mexico, 
and  tell  the  story  of  the  railway  merger. 

Today  the  main  lines  of  Mexican  railroads  aggregate 
12,500  miles.  Of  this  mileage  the  Southern  Pacific  com- 
pany controls  and  will  probably  soon  own  8,941  miles,  or 
nearly  three-fourths  of  the  total.  These  lines  consist  of : 

The  Southern  Pacific  in  Mexico,  950  miles ; the  Kan- 
sas City,  Mexico  and  Orient,  279  miles;  the  Pan-Amer- 
ican, 296  miles;  the  Mexican,  327  miles;  the  National 
Railways  of  Mexico,  7,089  miles. 

Of  these  the  Southern  Pacific  is  the  only  one  that  is 
being  operated  openly  as  the  property  of  the  Harriman 
heirs.  The  Orient  road  is  operated  under  the  presidency 
of  A.  E.  Stilwell,  a Plarriman  ally,  whose  vice-presi- 
dent, George  H.  Ross,  is  a director  of  the  Chicago  & 
Alton  road,  a Harriman  property  with  which  the  Orient 
road  has  traffic  agreements.  Construction  is  still  going 
on  on  both  of  these  roads  and  they  are  drawing  from 
the  Diaz  government  about  $20,000  of  subsidy  for  every 
mile  built,  or  nearly  enough  to  build  the  road. 

The  Pan-American  railroad  was  recently  acquired  by 
David  H.  Thompson,  who  is  the  nominal  president. 
Thompson  was  the  United  States  ambassador  to  Mex- 
ico, where  he  seems  to  have  represented  the  Harriman 
interests  first  and  the  other  American  interests  after- 
wards. After  securing  the  road,  he  resigned  the  am- 
bassadorship. It  is  a pretty  generally  accepted  fact  that 
Thompson  was  acting  for  Harriman  in  securing  the  road. 
Harriman  men  are  associated  with  him  as  directors  of 
the  road.  The  especial  purpose  of  Thompson’s  securing 
the  road  was  to  incorporate  it  as  a part  of  Harriman’s 


264 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


plan  to  make  an  all-rail  route  from  the  Arizona  border 
to  Central  America. 

The  only  control  exercised  by  the  Harriman  interests 
over  the  “Mexican  Railway,”  as  far  as  the  writer  knows, 
is  that  involved  in  the  pooling  of  interests,  in  both  freight 
and  passenger  traffic,  of  the  Mexican  road  and  the  Na- 
tional Railways  of  Mexico.  It  is  the  inside  story  of  the 
Mexican  merger — a story  which  I obtained  from  unim- 
peachable sources  while  working  as  a reporter  of  the 
Mexican  Daily  Herald  in  the  Spring  of  1909. 

Briefly,  the  story  is  this:  The  consolidation  under 

nominal  government  control  of  the  two  principal  rail- 
road systems  in  Mexico,  the  Mexican  Central  and  the 
Mexican  National,  was  brought  about,  not,  as  is  officially 
given  out,  to  provide  against  the  absorption  of  the  Mex- 
ican highways  by  foreign  capitalists,  but  to  provide  for 
that  very  thing.  It  was  a deal  between  E.  H.  Harriman, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  government  financial  cama- 
rilla, on  the  other,  the  victim  in  the  case  being  Mexico. 
It  was  a sort  of  deferred  sale  of  the  Mexican  railroads 
to  Harriman,  the  members  of  the  camarilla  getting  as 
their  share  of  the  loot  millions  and  millions  of  dollars 
through  the  juggling  of  securities  and  stock  in  effecting 
the  merger.  On  the  whole,  it  constitutes  perhaps  the 
most  colossal  single  piece  of  plundering  carried  out  by 
the  organized  wreckers  of  the  Mexican  nation. 

In  this  deal  with  Harriman,  Limantour,  Minister  of 
Finance,  was  the  chief  manipulator,  and  Pablo  Macedo, 
brother  of  Miguel  Macedo,  Sub-secretary  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Interior,  was  first  lieutenant.  As  a reward 
for  their  part  in  the  deal,  Limatour  and  Macedo  are  said 
to  have  divided  $9,000,000  gold  profits  between  them, 
and  Limantour  was  made  president  and  Macedo  vice- 
president  of  the  board  of  directors  of  the  merged  roads, 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 


265 


which  positions  they  still  hold.  The  other  members  of 
the  board  of  directors  of  the  merged  roads  are  Guil- 
lermo de  Landa  y Escandon,  governor  of  the  Federal 
District  of  Mexico,  Samuel  Morse  Felton,  former  pres- 
ident of  the  Mexican  Central,  who  was  Harriman’s 
special  emissary  in  Mexico  to  work  on  Diaz  to  secure 
his  consent  to  the  deal,  E.  N.  Brown,  former  vice-presi- 
dent and  general  manager  of  the  Mexican  National  lines, 
and  Gabriel  Mancera.  Each  of  these  four  men  is  said  to 
have  made  a personal  fortune  for  himself  out  of  the 
transaction. 

The  National  Railways  of  Mexico,  as  they  are  officially 
known,  have,  in  addition  to  a general  board  of  directors, 
a New  York  board  of  directors.  Note  the  Harriman 
timber  to  be  found  among  these  names:  William  H. 
Nichols,  Ernest  Thallmann,  James  N.  Wallace,  Janies 
Speyer,  Bradley  W.  Palmer,  H.  Clay  Pierce,  Clay  Ar- 
thur Pierce,  Henry  S.  Priest,  Eban  Richards  and  H.  C. 
P.  Channan. 

Whether  the  Mexican  railroad  steal  was  conceived  in 
the  brain  of  Limantour  or  of  Harriman  is  not  known, 
but  Limantour  seems  to  have  attempted  to  bring  about 
the  merger  originally  without  the  aid  of  Harriman. 
Some  four  years  ago  Limantour  and  Don  Pablo  Mar- 
tinez del  Rio,  owner  of  the  Mexican  Herald  and  man- 
ager of  the  Banco  Nacional,  went  into  the  market  and 
bought  heavily  of  Mexican  Central  and  Mexican  Na- 
tional stock,  after  which  they  broached  the  merger 
scheme  to  Diaz.  Diaz  turned  the  proposition  down  point- 
blank  and  Limantour  and  del  Rio  both  lost  heavily,  del 
Rio’s  losses  so  bearing  down  upon  him  that  he  died 
soon  afterwards. 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Limantour  is  suppose  1 to 
have  turned  to  Harriman,  who  immediately  fell  in  with 


266 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


the  scheme  and  carried  it  to  an  exceedingly  successful 
termination  for  himself. 

Harriman  owned  some  Mexican  Central  stock,  but 
fifty-one  per  cent  of  this  property  was  in  the  personal 
possession  of  H.  Clay  Pierce.  When  the  first  rumblings 
of  the  1907  panic  were  heard  Pierce  was  persuaded  to 
hypothecate  his  entire  holdings  to  Harriman. 

After  getting  control  of  from  eighty  to  eighty-five 
per  cent  of  the  Mexican  Central  property  Plarriman  sent 
Samuel  Morse  Felton,  one  of  the  ablest  railroad  manip- 
lators  in  the  United  States,  to  talk  Diaz  over  to  the 
merger  scheme.  Where  Limantour  had  failed  Felton 
succeeded  and  the  world  was  informed  that  the  Mexican 
government  had  accomplished  a great  financial  feat  by 
securing  the  ownership  and  control  of  its  railroad  lines. 

It  was  announced  that  the  government  had  actually 
secured  fifty-one  per  cent  of  the  stock  of  the  company. 
Also  the  government  was  put  in  nominal  control  of  the 
situation. 

But — in  the  deal  Harriman  succeeded  in  placing  such 
heavy  obligations  upon  the  new  company  that  his  heirs 
are  almost  sure  to  foreclose  in  the  course  of  time. 

The  Mexican  Central  and  Mexican  National  systems 
are  both  cheaply  built  roads;  their  rolling  stock  is  of 
very  low  grade.  Their  entire  joint  mileage  at  the  time 
of  the  merger  was  5,400  miles,  and  yet  under  the  merger 
they  were  capitalized  at  $615,000,000  gold,  or  $112,000 
per  mile.  Oceans  of  water  there.  The  Mexican  Cen- 
tral was  30  years  old,  yet  had  never  paid  a penny.  The 
Mexican  National  was  over  25  years  old,  yet  it  had  paid 
less  than  two  per  cent.  Yet  in  the  over-capitalized  mer- 
ger we  find  that  the  company  binds  itself  to  pay  four 
and  one-lialf  per  cent  on  $225,000,000  worth  of  bonds 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 


267 


and  four  per  cent  on  $160,000,000  worth  of  bonds,  or 
$16,525,000  interest  a year,  and  pay  it  semi-annually ! 

Out  of  the  merger  deal  Harriman  is  supposed  to  have 
received,  in  addition  to  merger  stocks  and  bonds,  a cash 
consideration  and  special  secret  concessions  and  subsi- 
dies for  his  west  coast  road.  Harriman  dictated  the  con- 
tract as  to  the  payment  of  interest  on  those  merger  bonds 
and  his  successors  will  compel  payment  or  foreclose. 
As  long  as  Diaz  remains  in  power,  as  long  as  the  Mex- 
ican government  is  “good;”  that  is,  as  long  as  it  contin- 
ues in  partnership  with  American  capital,  the  matter 
can  be  arranged — if  in  no  other  way,  by  paying  the  defi- 
ciency out  of  the  Mexican  treasury.  But  the  moment 
there  is  trouble  it  is  expected  that  the  government  will 
be  unable  to  pay  and  the  railroad  will  become  American 
in  name  as  well  as  in  fact. 

Trouble!  That  word  is  an  exceedingly  significant  one 
here.  A Mexican  revolution  will  probably  mean  trouble 
of  this  particular  sort,  for  every  revolution  of  the  past 
in  Mexico  has  seen  the  necessity  of  the  government’s  re- 
pudiating all  or  a part  of  the  national  obligations  for 
a time.  Thus  the  final  step  in  the  complete  American- 
ization of  Mexico’s  railways  will  be  one  of  the  clubs  held 
over  the  Mexican  people  to  prevent  them  from  overturn- 
ing a government  that  is  particularly  favorable  to  Amer- 
ican capital. 

Trouble!  Trouble  will  come,  too,  when  Mexico  at- 
tempts to  kick  over  the  traces  of  undue  American  “in- 
fluence.” The  United  States  will  intervene  with  an 
army,  if  necessary,  to  maintain  Diaz  or  a successor  who 
would  continue  the  special  partnership  with  American 
capital.  In  case  of  a serious  revolution  the  United 
States  will  intervene  on  the  plea  of  protecting  American 


268 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


capital.  American  intervention  will  destroy  the  last 
hope  of  Mexico  for  an  independent  national  existence. 
Mexican  patriots  cannot  forget  this,  for  it  is  daily  pa- 
raded before  them  by  the  Diaz  press  itself.  Thus  the 
threat  of  an  American  army  in  Mexico  is  another  of  the 
American  influences  which  keep  Mexico  from  revolu- 
tion against  the  autocracy  of  Diaz. 

American  capital  is  not  at  present  in  favor  of  political 
annexation  of  Mexico.  This  is  because  the  slavery  by 
which  it  profits  can  be  maintained  with  greater  safety 
under  the  Mexican  flag  than  under  the  American  flag.  As 
long  as  Mexico  can  be  controlled — in  other  words,  as 
long  as  she  can  be  held  as  a slave  colony — she  will  not  be 
annexed,  for  once  she  is  annexed  the  protest  of  the 
American  people  will  become  so  great  that  the  slavery 
must  of  necessity  be  abolished  or  veiled  under  less  brutal 
and  downright  forms.  The  annexation  of  Mexico  will 
come  only  when  she  cannot  be  controlled  by  other  means. 
Nevertheless,  the  threat  of  annexation  is  today  held  as 
a club  over  the  Mexican  people  to  prevent  them  from 
forcibly  removing  Diaz. 

Do  I guess  when  I prophesy  that  the  United  States 
will  intervene  in  case  of  a revolution  against  Diaz? 
Hardly,  for  the  United  States  has  already  intervened 
in  that  very  cause.  The  United  States  has  not  waited 
for  the  revolution  to  assume  a serious  aspect,  but  has 
lent  its  powers  most  strenuously  to  stamping  out  its 
first  evidences.  President  Taft  and  Attorney  General 
Wickersham,  at  the  behest  of  American  capital,  have 
already  placed  the  United  States  government  in  the 
service  of  Diaz  to  aid  in  stamping  out  an  incipient  rev- 
olution with  which,  for  justifiable  grounds,  our  revolu- 
tion of  1776  cannot  for  an  instant  be  thought  of  in  com- 
parison. Attorney  General  Wickersham  is  credited 


THE  AMERICAN  PARTNERS  OF  DIAZ 


269 


with  being  a heavy  stockholder  in  the  National  Rail- 
ways of  Mexico;  Henry  W.  Taft,  brother  of  the  pres- 
ident, is  general  counsel  for  the  same  corporation.  Thus 
it  will  be  seen  that  these  officials  have  a personal  as  well 
as  a political  interest  in  maintaining  the  system  of  Diaz. 

Three  times  during  the  past  two  years  the  United 
States  government  has  rushed  an  army  to  the  Mexican 
border  in  order  to  crush  a movement  of  Liberals  which 
had  risen  against  the  autocrat  of  Mexico . Constantly 
during  the  past  three  years  the  American  government, 
through  its  Secret  Service,  its  Department  of  Justice, 
its  Immigration  officials,  its  border  rangers,  has  main- 
tained in  the  border  states  a reign  of  terror  for  Mex- 
icans, in  which  it  has  lent  itself  unreservedly  to  the 
extermination  of  political  ref  ugees  of  Mexico  who  have 
sought  safety  from  the  long  arm  of  Dias  upon  the  soil 
of  the  “land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the  brave.” 


272 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“The  employment  of  American  troops  for  this  purpose,  by  the 
way,  is  almost  without  precedent  in  recent  years,  and  the  law 
officers  of  the  War  Department,  as  well  as  the  Attorney-General 
himself,  have  been  obliged  to  give  close  study  to  the  question 
of  the  extent  to  which  they  may  exercise  the  power  of  pre- 
venting persons  from  entering  the  United  States  across  the 
Mexican  border. 

“Under  the  law  no  passports  are  required  except  in  the  case 
of  Chinese  and  Japanese,  and  about  the  only  other  reasonable 
ground  for  detention  of  fugitives  seeking  to  cross  the  line  would 
be  some  presumable  violation  of  the  immigration  or  health- 
inspection  laws. 

“So  it  will  be  a delicate  task  for  the  army  officers,  who  are 
charged  with  the  duty  of  policing  this  international  boundary 
line,  to  avert  clashes  with  the  civil  courts  if  they  undertake  to 
make  promiscuous  arrests  of  persons  fleeing  from  Mexico  into 
the  United  States.” 

The  troops  obeyed  orders.  Fleeing  Liberals  were 
turned  back  to  be  pierced  by  the  bullets  of  Diaz’s  sol- 
diers. Was  our  government  justified  in  causing  the 
death  of  those  unfortunate  men  in  such  a manner?  If 
not,  would  it  be  improper  to  characterize  the  action  as 
executive  murder? 

During  the  past  five  years  hundreds  of  Mexican  refu- 
gees have  been  imprisoned  in  the  border  states,  and  there 
have  been  numerous  attempts  to  carry  refugees  across 
the  line,  in  order  that  the  Diaz  government  might  deal 
with  them  after  its  own  summary  methods,  and  many 
of  these  attempts  have  been  successful.  Some  of  the 
schemes  employed  in  this  campaign  of  deportation  are, 
first,  to  institute  extradition  proceedings  under  charges 
of  “murder  and  robbery;”  second,  to  deport  through  the 
Immigration  Department  under  charges  of  being  “unde- 
sirable immigrants;”  third,  to  kidnap  outright  and  felo- 
niously carry  across  the  line. 

Some  members  of  the  Liberal  Party  whose  extradition 


MEXICAN  REVOLUTIONISTS 

TOMAS  SABARIA  ANTONIO  I.  VILLARREAL 

RICARDO  FLORES  MAGON 


ENRIQUE  FLORES  MAGON 


LI BR  * DO  RIVERA 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  273 

was  sought  on  charges  of  “murder  and  robbery”  during 
the  space  of  a few  months  were  Librado  Rivera,  Pedro 
Gonzales,  Crescencio  Villarreal,  Trinidad  Garcia,  Deme- 
trio  Castro,  Patricio  Guerra,  Antonio  I.  Villarreal,  Lauro 
Aguirre,  Ricardo  Flores  Magon  and  Manuel  Sarabia. 
There  were  others,  but  I have  not  definite  knowledge  of 
their  cases.  Some  of  the  prosecutions  occurred  at  St. 
Louis,  others  at  El  Paso,  Texas,  others  at  Del  Rio,  Texas, 
and  others  at  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

An  uprising  of  a Liberal  club  at  Jimenez,  Coahuila, 
formed  the  basis  of  the  charges  in  all  but  one  or  two  of 
the  cases.  During  this  uprising  somebody  was  killed  and 
the  government  postoffice  lost  ome  money.  Wherefore 
every  Mexican  who  could  be  convicted  of  membership  in 
the  Liberal  Party,  although  he  might  never  have  been  in 
Coahuila  nor  have  ever  heard  of  the  rebellion,  stood  in 
danger  of  extradition  for  “murder  and  robbery.”  The 
United  States  government  spent  a good  many  thousands 
of  dollars  in  prosecuting  these  manifestly  groundless 
charges,  but  it  is  to  the  credit  of  certain  Federal  Judges 
that  the  prosecutions  were  generally  unsuccessful.  Judge 
Gray  of  St.  Louis  and  Judge  Maxey  of  Texas  both  char- 
acterized the  offenses  as  being  of  a political  nature.  The 
text  of  the  former’s  decision  in  the  Rivera  case  follows : 

The  United  States  vs.  Librado  Rivera. 

City  of  St.  Louis,  ss.,  State  of  Missouri. 

I hereby  certify  that  upon  a public  hearing  had  before  me  at 
my  office  in  said  city  on  this  30th  day  of  November,  1906,  the 
defendant  being  present,  it  appearing  from  the  proofs  that  the 
offense  complained  of  was  entirely  of  a political  nature,  the 
said  defendant,  Librado  Rivera,  was  discharged. 

Witness  my  hand  and  seal. 

James  R.  Gray, 

United  States  Commissioner  at  St.  Louis,  Mo. 


274 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  scheme  to  deport  political  refugees  through  the 
Immigration  Department  was  more  successful.  The 
immigration  laws  provide  that,  if  it  be  discovered  that 
an  immigrant  is  a criminal  or  an  anarchist,  or  if  he  has 
entered  this  country  in  an  illegal  manner,  provided  that 
such  discover)'  is  made  within  three  years  of  his  arrival 
here,  the  immigration  officials  may  deport  him.  The 
question  of  the  “undesirability”  of  the  immigrant  is  not 
a subject  for  review  by  the  courts,  the  immigrant  may 
not  appeal,  and  within  two  or  three  restrictions  the  im- 
migration agent’s  word  is  law.  It  will  be  readily  seen, 
therefore,  that  if  the  said  official  be  not  an  honest  man, 
if  he  be  willing  to  accept  a bribe  or  even  yield  to  influ- 
ence or  blandishments,  he  may,  with  impunity,  send  many 
pure  and  upright  men  to  an  untimely  death. 

And  exactly  this  tiling  has  been  done.  Antonio  I. 
Villarreal,  secretary  of  the  Liberal  Party,  was  among 
those  placed  in  danger  of  deportation  “under  the  immi- 
gration laws.”  After  various  means  had  been  used  un- 
successfully to  secure  his  extradition,  he  was  turned  over 
to  the  immigration  officials  at  El  Paso  and  was  actually 
on  his  way  to  the  line  when  he  made  a break  for  lib- 
erty and  escaped. 

Of  a large  number  of  Mexican  Liberals  arrested  in 
Arizona  in  the  fall  of  1906,  Lazaro  Puente,  Abraham 
Salcido,  Gabriel  Rubio,  Bruno  Trevino,  Carlos  Humbert, 
Leonardo  Villarreal  and  several  others  were  deported  in 
one  party  by  the  immigration  officials  at  Douglas.  There 
is  no  legal  excuse  for  deporting  an  immigrant  because  he 
is  a political  refugee.  On  the  other  hand,  according  to 
“American  principles,”  so-called,  he  is  entitled  to  espe- 
cially solicitous  care  for  this  reason.  And  yet  all  of  these 
men  were  deported  because  they  were  political  refugees. 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  275 

All  of  them  were  peaceful,  respectable  persons.  The 
law  under  no  circumstances  permits  of  deportation  after 
the  immigrant  has  been  a resident  of  this  country  for 
more  than  three  years.  But  several  of  this  number  .had 
lived  here  for  longer  than  that  time  and  Puente,  who 
was  editing  a paper  in  Douglas,  claimed  to  have  resided 
in  the  United  States  continuously  for  thirteen  years. 

Still  another  crime  of  officials  may  be  cited  in  this  par- 
ticular case.  When  occasion  arises  for  deportation  the 
immigrant  in  ordinary  cases  is  merely  returned  to  the 
country  whence  he  came.  But  in  this  case  the  group  of 
Mexican  Liberals  was  delivered  over  to  the  Mexican  po- 
lice in  handcuffs,  and  the  American  handcuffs  were  not 
removed  until  the  prisoners  arrived  at  the  penitentiary  of 
Hermosillo,  state  of  Sonora ! 

The  Mexican  government,  by  the  way,  found  nothing 
against  these  men  after  it  had  got  them  except  that  they 
were  members  of  the  Liberal  Party.  Nevertheless,  it 
sent  each  and  every  one  of  them  to  long  terms  in  prison. 

Many  Americans  will  remember  the  case  of  L.  Gu- 
tierrez De  Lara,  whom  the  Immigration  Department 
seized  for  deportation  in  October,  1909,  accusing  him 
of  being  “an  alien  anarchist.”  De  Lara  had  resided  more 
than  three  years  in  this  country,  yet  undoubtedly  he 
would  have  been  sent  to  his  death  had  not  the  country 
sent  up  such  a protest  that  the  conspirators  were  fright- 
ened. It  is  supposed  that  De  Lara’s  life  was  sought  at 
this  particular  time  because  he  accompanied  me  to  Mex- 
ico and  aided  in  securing  material  for  my  expose  of 
Mexican  conditions. 

When  Diaz  fails  to  gain  possession  of  his  enemies  in 
the  United  States  by  other  means  he  does  not  hesitate 
to  resort  to  kidnapping  and  when  he  resorts  to  kidnap- 


2 76 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


ping  lie  finds  no  trouble  in  securing  the  criminal  assis- 
tance of  American  officials. 

The  most  notable  case  of  refugee  kidnapping  on  rec- 
ord is  that  of  Manuel  Sarabia.  The  case  is  notable  not 
because  it  is  the  only  one  of  its  kind,  but  because  it  is  the 
one  which  was  most  successfully  exposed. 

Manuel  Sarabia  was  second  speaker  of  the  Liberal 
junta.  He  was  hounded  about  from  place  to  place  by 
Diaz  detectives,  finally  bringing  up  in  Douglas,  Arizona, 
where  he  went  to  work  quietly  at  his  trade  of  printer. 

On  June  30,  1907,  Antonio  Maza,  the  Mexican  consul 
at  Douglas,  saw  Sarabia  on  the  street  and  recognized 
him.  That  evening  U.  S.  Ranger  Sam  Hayhurst  held 
up  Sarabia  at  the  point  of  a pistol  and,  without  a war- 
rant, put  him  in  the  city  jail.  At  eleven  o’clock  that 
night  Sarabia’s  door  swung  open,  he  was  led  outside, 
forced  into  an  automobile,  carried  across  the  interna- 
tional boundary  line  and  there  turned  over  to  Colonel 
Kosterlitzsky,  an  officer  of  Mexican  ruralcs.  The  ru- 
ral es  tied  Sarabia  on  the  back  of  a mule,  and  telling  him 
that  he  was  to  be  shot  on  the  road,  made  a hurried  trip 
with  him  through  the  mountains,  finally  bringing  up,  af- 
ter five  days,  at  the  penitentiary  at  Hermosillo,  Sonora. 

What  saved  Sarabia?  Just  one  thing.  As  he  was 
forced  into  the  automobile  he  cried  out  his  name  and 
shouted  that  he  was  being  kidnapped.  The  ruffians 
guarding  him  choked  him  into  silence  and  then  gagged 
him,  but  some  one  had  heard  and  the  story  spread. 

Even  then  Consul  Maza  had  the  audacity  to  try  to 
hush  up  the  matter  and  carry  his  plot  to  a successful 
conclusion.  By  some  means  he  succeeded  in  muzzling 
the  string  of  Arizona  newspapers  run  by  George  H. 
Kelly,  as  Kelly  afterwards  admitted  in  court.  But  in 
Douglas  at  that  time  there  was  a newspaper  man  whom 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  277 

Maza  could  not  bribe.  It  was  Franklin  B.  Dorr,  who 
was  running  the  Douglas  Daily  Examiner. 

In  his  paper  Dorr  raised  a protest  that  stirred  the 
blood  of  the  people  of  Douglas.  Street  meetings  were 
held  to  further  arouse  the  people.  Mother  Jones  was 
there.  A crowd  looked  for  Maza  with  a rope.  Tele- 
graphic appeals  were  sent  to  the  state  and  national 
governments.  And  finally — Sarabia  was  shamefacedly 
returned. 

What  would  have  happened  to  Sarabia  if  his  voice 
had  not  been  heard  on  that  night  in  June,  1907?  Ex- 
actly what  has  happened  to  others  whose  frightened 
voices  have  not  been  heard.  He  would  have  dropped 
out  of  sight  and  no  one  would  ever  have  been  able  to 
say  for  certain  where  he  had  gone. 

And  what,  pray,  happened  to  the  kidnappers?  Abso- 
lutely nothing. 

Consul  Maza,  Ranger  Hayhurst,  Lee  Thompson,  city 
jailer,  Constable  Shorpshire,  Henry  Elvey,  the  chauffeur, 
and  some  private  detectives  whose  names  were  never 
given  to  the  public  seem  plainly  to  have  been  guilty  of 
the  crime  of  kidnapping,  which  is  punishable  by  impris- 
onment in  the  penitentiary.  Those  named  were  arrested 
and  the  first  four  were  duly  held  to  answer  to  the  up- 
per court  sitting  at  Douglas.  Elvey  made  a clean  breast 
of  the  case  and  the  evidence  seemed  conclusive.  But 
as  soon  as  the  excitement  had  blown  over  every  one  of 
the  cases  was  quietly  dropped.  It  was  not  Sarabia’s 
fault,  for  an  effort  was  made  to  bribe  Sarabia  to  leave 
town  and  Sarabia  refused  the  bribe.  Evidently  the 
money  which  had  bribed  Hayhurst,  Thompson  and 
Shorpshire  was  not  all  the  money  that  was  used  by 
Maza  at  that  time. 

Nearly  every  small  town  along  the  Mexican  border 


278 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


harbors  a personage  who  enjoys  the  title  of  Mexican 
consul.  Consuls  are  found  in  villages  hundreds  of  miles 
from  the  Mexican  border.  Consuls  are  supposed  to  be 
for  the  purpose  of  looking  after  the  interests  of  trade 
between  countries,  but  towns  in  California,  Arizona, 
New  Mexico  and  Texas  which  do  not  do  a hundred  dol- 
lars worth  of  trade  a year  with  Mexico  have  consuls 
who  are  maintained  by  Diaz  at  the  expense  of  tens  of 
thousands  of  dollars  a year. 

Such  consuls  are  not  consuls  at  all.  They  are  spies, 
persecutors,  bribers.  They  are  furnished  with  plenty 
of  money  and  they  spend  it  freely  in  hiring  thugs  and 
detectives  and  bribing  American  officeholders.  By  the 
power  thus  gained  they  have  repeatedly  suppressed 
newspapers  and  put  their  editors  in  jail,  as  well  as 
broken  up  political  clubs  of  Mexicans. 

During  the  trial  of  Jose  Maria  Ramires  and  four 
other  Liberals  in  El  Paso  in  October,  1908,  a city  police- 
man naively  swore  that  his  chief  had  told  him  to  obey 
the  orders  of  the  Mexican  consul  and  the  chief  of  police 
of  Juarez,  a Mexican  town. 

When,  after  threats  by  the  Mexican  consul  of  Tucson, 
Arizona,  thugs  destroyed  the  printing  plant  of  Manuel 
Sarabia  in  that  city  in  December,  1908,  Sarabia  was 
unable  to  persuade  the  City  Marshal  to  make  an  inves- 
tigation of  the  affair  or  to  attempt  to  bring  the  perpetra- 
tors to  account. 

City  detectives  of  Los  Angeles,  California,  have  re- 
peatedly taken  orders  from  the  Mexican  consul  there 
and  have  unlawfully  placed  in  his  hands  property  of 
persons  whom  they  have  arrested. 

Antonio  Lozano,  the  Mexican  consul  at  Los  Angeles, 
at  one  time  had  two  fake  employment  offices  running 
at  the  same  time  for  the  single  purpose  of  hiring  mem- 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  279 

bers  of  the  Liberal  Party  and  luring  them  to  points  in 
Mexico  where  they  could  be  captured  by  the  Diaz  police. 
This  same  consul,  after  De  Lara  and  I started  on  our 
trip  to  Mexico,  offered  bribes  to  various  friends  of  De 
Lara  to  tell  them  where  he  had  gone. 

Such  minor  details  would  fill  many  pages.  John  Mur- 
ray was  arrested  by  Secret  Service  Chief  Wilkie.  Mur- 
ray’s offense  consisted  of  raising  money  for  the  legal  de- 
fense of  the  refugees.  Robert  W.  Dowe,  the  American 
customs  collector  at  Eagle  Pass,  Texas,  was  compelled 
to  resign  under  charges  of  acting  as  a secret  agent  for  the 
Mexican  government,  and  receiving  money  for  such 
service.  The  evidence  in  the  case  was  suppressed  by  our 
Treasury  Department,  which  reinstated  Dowe  after  some 
months  had  passed  and  public  indignation  over  the  affair 
at  Eagle  Pass  had  blown  over.  In  the  District  Court  of 
Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  a warrant  for  the  arrest  of  De  Lara,  his 
wife,  Mrs.  Mamie  Shea,  an  American,  Mrs.  Marie  Tala- 
vera  and  about  twenty  others,  has  been  on  file  for  many 
months,  ready  for  service  at  any  time.  Those  named  are 
charged  with  violating  the  neutrality  laws  in  having  cir- 
culated a manifesto  printed  by  the  Liberal  Party.  Threats 
that  this  warrant  was  to  be  served  have  been  made  to 
various  of  the  parties,  with  the  evident  purpose  of  de- 
terring them  from  aiding  in  any  way  the  movement  for 
the  regeneration  of  Mexico. 

Only  a few  months  ago  newspapers  reported  that  Ma- 
jor Elihu  Root  of  the  U.  S.  Army  had  gone  on  a special 
mission  to  Mexico  to  confer  with  Diaz’s  War  Depart- 
ment on  the  most  practical  means  of  entrapping  the  ene- 
mies of  Diaz  who  are  sojourning  on  our  soil. 

Only  a short  time  ago  the  news  was  printed  that  Punto 
Rojo,  an  anti-Diaz  labor  paper  of  Texas,  had  been  sup- 


280 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


pressed,  that  $10,000  reward  had  been  offered  for  the 
capture  of  its  editor,  Praxedis  Guerrero,  that  secret 
service  men  in  pursuit  of  that  reward  had  seized  sub- 
scription books  of  the  paper  and  from  the  books  had  se- 
cured names  of  men  who  would  be  at  once  proceeded 
against. 

During  the  past  three  years  persecution  of  this  general 
character  has  directly  caused  the  suspension  of  at  least  ten 
newspapers  printed  in  Spanish  along  the  border  for  Mex- 
ican readers. 

To  each  of  these  persecutions  and  press  suppressions 
there  is  an  interesting  story  attached,  but  to  attempt  to 
detail  all  of  them  would  require  too  great  a proportion 
of  this  work.  I shall  detail  but  one  case,  that  of  Ricardo 
Flores  Magon,  president  of  the  Liberal  Party,  and  his 
immediate  associates.  This  case,  as  well  as  being  the 
most  important  of  all,  is  typical.  Its  difference  from 
the  rest  has  been  chiefly  that  Magon.  having  been  able  to 
gather  about  him  greater  resources,  has  been  able  to  make 
a longer  and  more  desperate  fight  for  his  life  and  lib- 
erty than  others  of  his  countrymen  who  have  been  singled 
out  for  persecution.  For  six  and  one-half  years  Magon 
has  been  in  this  country  and  during  nearly  the  whole  of 
that  time  he  has  been  engaged  in  trying  to  escape  being 
sent  back  to  death  beyond  the  Rio  Grande.  More  than 
one-half  of  that  time  he  has  passed  in  American  prisons, 
and  for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  is  opposed  to  Diaz 
and  his  system  of  slavery  and  despotism. 

The  worst  that  can  be  said  of  Magon — as  of  any  of 
his  followers  whom  I know — is  that  he  desires  to  bring 
about  an  armed  rebellion  against  the  established  govern- 
ment of  Mexico.  In  cases  where  reformers  are  given 
the  opportunity  of  urging  their  reforms  by  democratic 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  281 

methods,  armed  rebellion  in  this  day  and  age  are  inde- 
fensible. But  when  through  the  suppression  of  free 
speech,  free  press  and  such  liberties,  peaceable  means  of 
propaganda  are  impossible,  then  force  is  the  only  alterna- 
tive. It  was  upon  this  principle  that  our  revolutionary 
forefathers  proceeded  and  upon  which  the  Mexican  Lib- 
erals are  proceeding  today. 

Magon  and  his  followers  would  never  have  come  to 
this  country  to  plot  against  Diaz  had  not  their  peace- 
able movement  been  broken  up  by  gun  and  club  methods 
and  their  lives  seriously  endangered  at  home.  The 
propriety  of  citizens  of  despotic  countries  seeking  refuge 
in  another  country,  there  to  plan  better  things  for  their 
own,  was  for  many  decades  recognized  by  the  constituted 
powers  of  the  United  States,  which  protected  political 
refugees. 

A dozen  years  ago  Palma  established  the  Cuban  revo- 
lutionary Junta  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  instead  of 
being  arrested  he  was  lionized.  For  more  than  a century 
political  refugees  from  European  countries,  South  Amer- 
ica, and  even  China  have  found  safety  with  us.  Young 
Turks  prepared  for  their  revolution  here.  Irish  soci- 
eties raised  money  here  for  a movement  to  free  Ireland. 
Jewish  defense  societies  have  been  financed  all  over  the 
country  and  none  of  the  promoters  have  been  turned 
over  to  the  vengeance  of  the  Czar.  And  these  things 
have  been  done  openly,  not  secretly.  Today  there  are 
known  to  be  Portuguese  revolutionist  headquarters  in 
the  United  States.  Porfirio  Diaz  himself — what  historic 
irony ! — when  he  turned  revolutionist  found  safety  on 
American  soil  and,  though  his  cause  was  an  extremely 
questionable  one,  no  one  arrested  him.  What  is  more, 
Diaz  committed  the  identical  crime  which,  through  the 
legal  machinery  of  the  United  States,  he  is  now  urging 


282 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


against  many  of  the  refugees,  that  of  setting  on  foot  a 
military  expedition  against  a foreign  power.  On  March 
22,  1876,  Diaz  crossed  the  Rio  Grande  at  Brownsville, 
Texas,  with  forty  armed  followers  for  the  purpose  of 
waging  war  upon  President  Lerdo  de  Tejada.  He  was 
driven  back  and,  though  all  America  knew  of  his  exploit, 
no  effort  was  made  to  imprison  him. 

But  now  the  policy  has  been  changed  to  accommodate 
President  Diaz.  Action  has  been  taken  against  political 
refugees  of  just  one  other  country,  Russia,  and  it  is 
safe  to  assume  that  those  cases  were  undertaken  merely 
that  the  authorities  might  defend  themselves  against 
the  charge  of  using  the  machinery  of  government  with 
partiality  against  Mexicans. 

Magon  and  a small  group  of  followers,  including  his 
brother  Enrique  and  the  Sarabias,  crossed  the  Rio 
Grande  in  January,  1904,  and  soon  afterwards  established 
their  paper  “Regeneracion”  in  San  Antonio.  The  paper 
had  been  going  but  a few  weeks  when  a Mexican,  a 
supposed  hireling  of  the  Mexican  government,  called  at 
the  office  and  tried  to  reach  the  Liberal  leader  with  a 
dirk-knife.  Enrique  Magon  grappled  with  the  fellow, 
and  in  another  moment  four  city  detectives  rushed  in 
and  placed  Enrique  under  arrest.  The  next  day  he  was 
fined  $30  in  the  police  court,  while  the  supposed  thug 
was  not  even  arrested. 

The  exiles  looked  upon  this  incident  as  a part  of  a 
conspiracy  to  get  them  into  trouble.  They  moved  to  St. 
Louis,  where  they  re-established  their  paper.  They  had 
hardly  got  into  their  new  quarters  when  they  began  to 
be  annoyed  by  the  Furlong  Detective  Agency.  They 
claim  that  the  Furlong  Detective  Agency  put  an  “opera- 
tive” into  the  office  of  “Regeneracion”  in  the  role  of  an 
advertising  solicitor,  put  “operatives”  into  the  St.  Louis 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  283 

postoffice  to  waylay  the  letters  of  the  exiles,  put  “opera- 
tives” out  to  hunt  somebody  to  bring  libel  proceedings 
against  “Regeneracion,”  put  “operatives”  at  work  to 
harass  the  editors  of  the  paper  in  every  possible  way. 

Our  Postoffice  Department,  called  to  aid  in  the  sup- 
pression of  “Regeneracion,”  revoked  the  second  class 
privileges  which  had  been  properly  secured  at  San 
Antonio.  But  this  was  insufficient,  so  two  different 
parties  were  brought  from  Mexico  to  institute  charges 
of  criminal  and  civil  libel  against  the  editors.  The  edi- 
tors were  thrown  in  jail,  the  publication  stopped.  Fur- 
long detectives  stole  letters  and  turned  them  over  to  the 
Mexican  consul,  and  from  these  letters,  the  refugees 
claim,  was  gleaned  a list  of  names  which  resulted  in  the 
arrest  of  some  three  hundred  Liberals  in  Mexico, 

The  editors  got  out  of  jail  on  bail,  whereupon  new 
charges  were  prepared  to  get  them  back  again.  But, 
having  important  work  to  do,  they  chose  to  pay  their 
bail  and  flee  from  these  charges.  Magon  and  Juan 
Sarabia  went  to  Canada  and  it  was  here  that  they  carried 
on  their  final  correspondence  preparatory  to  launching 
an  armed  rebellion  against  Diaz.  The  first  gun  was  to 
be  fired  October  20,  1906,  and  on  the  night  of  October 
19  the  Liberal  leaders  gathered  at  El  Paso  preparatory  to 
crossing  the  line  the  following  morning. 

As  set  forth  in  a previous  chapter,  this  rebellion  was 
betrayed  and  was  more  or  less  of  a fizzle.  Of  the  refu- 
gee leaders,  Juan  Sarabia  was  betrayed  into  the  hands 
of  Diaz  and  with  scores  of  others  was  soon  afterwards 
sent  to  the  military  prison  of  San  Juan  de  Ulua.  Villar- 
real, as  previously  stated,  was  among  those  arrested  by 
the  American  police.  For  a long  time  he  fought  extradi- 
tion on  the  “murder  and  robbery”  charge  and  was  finally 
turned  over  to  the  immigration  authorities.  Immigra- 


284 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


tion  officers  were  in  the  act  of  leading  him  to  the  boun- 
dary line  when  he  bolted  and  succeeded  in  escaping  by 
running  through  the  streets  of  El  Paso.  Librado  Rivera, 
first  speaker  of  the  Liberal  Junta,  with  Aaron  Mansano, 
was  kidnapped  at  St.  Louis  by  city  detectives,  was  hur- 
ried as  far  as  Ironton,  Missouri,  but  was  there  rescued 
and  brought  back  through  an  expose  which  was  made  by 
one  of  the  St.  Louis  papers. 

As  for  Magon,  for  months  he  was  hunted  by  detec- 
tives from  city  to  city.  He  went  to  California,  but  was 
still  kept  dodging  and  once  masqueraded  as  a woman  in 
order  to  escape  the  Diaz  hounds.  Linally,  he  revived  his 
paper  in  Los  Angeles  under  the  name  of  “Revolucion” 
and  here  he  was  joined  by  Villarreal  and  Rivera.  The 
three  worked  quietly  together,  keeping  always  indoors  in 
the  daytime  and  going  out  for  their  airing  only  at  night 
and  in  disguise. 

Early  in  August,  1907,  the  hiding-place  of  the  Liberal 
leaders  in  Los  Angeles  was  located.  The  evidence  seems 
to  point  to  a plot  to  kidnap  them  much  as  Sarabia  was 
kidnapped.  Lirst,  the  officers  had  plenty  of  time  in 
which  to  procure  a warrant,  but  they  did  not  procure 
a warrant  nor  even  attempt  to  do  so.  Second,  they 
secreted  an  automobile  in  the  vicinity  and  did  not  use  it 
after  the  arrest.  Third,  when  the  three  men,  fearing  a 
kidnapping  plot,  cried  out  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  the 
officers  beat  them  with  pistols  most  brutally,  Magon  being 
beaten  until  he  lay  bleeding  and  insensible  on  the 
ground.  This  circumstantial  evidence  of  a kidnapping 
plot  is  borne  out  by  the  direct  testimony  of  one  of  the 
hirelings  of  the  Mexican  consul  at  that  time,  who  has 
since  confessed  that  there  was  such  a plot  and  that  the 
Mexican  consul  was  the  man  who  hatched  it. 

Everything  seems  to  have  been  a'ranged.  The  descent 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  285 

of  the  sleuths  was  made  August  23,  and  Ambassador 
Creel  came  all  the  way  from  Washington  to  be  on  hand 
and  see  that  things  went  off  smoothly.  On  the  night  o. . 
August  22  Creel  was  given  a banquet  by  Mexican  con- 
cessionaires having  headquarters  in  Los  Angeles  and  the 
following  day  he  sat  in  his  hotel  and  waited  for  news 
that  his  thugs  had  gotten  their  victims  as  planned. 

But  the  outcries  of  Magon  and  his  friends  collected  a 
crowd  and  it  became  impossible  to  kidnap  them.  So 
unprepared  were  the  officers  for  a mere  arrest  case  that 
when  they  got  their  prisoners  to  jail  they  were  at  a 
loss  to  know  what  charge  to  place  against  them,  so  they 
put  them  down  on  the  police  books  as  “ resisting  an 
officer !” 

Ambassador  Creel  then  proceeded  to  hire  some  of  the 
highest  priced  lawyers  in  Southern  California  to  devise 
ways  and  means  for  getting  the  prisoners  down  into 
Mexico.  These  lawyers  were  ex-Governor  Henry  T. 
Gage,  Gray,  Barker  and  Bowen,  partners  of  U.  S.  Sena- 
tor Flint;  and  Horace  H.  Appel.  When  the  cases  came 
into  court  their  names  were  announced  by  the  public 
prosecutor  as  special  counsel  and  always  during  the 
hearings  one  or  more  of  them  was  personally  in  attend- 
ance. 

The  “officers”  who  beat  the  refugees  nearly  to  death 
and  then  charged  them  with  resisting  an  officer — although 
they  had  not  even  procured  a warrant — were  Thomas  H. 
Furlong,  head  of  the  Furlong  Detective  Agency  of  St. 
Louis,  chief  refugee-hunter  for  Diaz,  an  assistant  Fur- 
long detective,  and  two  Los  Angeles  city  detectives,  the 
notorious  Talamantes  and  Rico. 

For  months  previous  to  the  arrest  of  Magon  and  his 
associates  a card  offering  $20,000  for  their  apprehension 
was  circulated  about  the  United  States.  That  the  city 


286 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


detectives  received  their  share  of  this  reward  is  evi- 
denced by  sworn  testimony  given  in  the  Los  Angeles 
courts  by  Federico  Arizmendez,  a Los  Angeles  printer. 
After  the  arrest  of  Magon  the  sleuths  repaired  to  the 
office  of  Magon’s  newspaper,  where  they  took  into  cus- 
tody the  nominal  editor,  Modesto  Diaz.  Here  they  met 
Arizmendez  and  the  following  conversation  ensued : 

Talamantes — You’d  better  congratulate  me;  I just 
made  a thousand  dollars. 

Arizmendez— How’s  that? 

Talamantes — I’ve  just  caught  Villarreal. 

At  this  writing  Rico  and  Talamantes  are  still  members 
of  the  Los  Angeles  police  force ! 

The  identity  of  the  employer  of  Talamantes  et  al. 
was  confirmed  beyond  question  and  the  astounding  usur- 
pation by  that  employer  of  American  governmental  pow- 
ers was  revealed  when  upon  being  released  the  day 
following  the  conversation  quoted  above,  Modesto  Diaz 
was  informed  that  he  would  have  to  wait  a few  days 
for  the  papers  taken  from  him  at  the  time  of  his  arrest, 
as  they  had  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Mexican 
Consul! 

If  there  is  any  doubt  as  to  who  hired  Furlong  and  his 
henchmen  to  hunt  down  Magon  the  doubt  will  be  dis- 
pelled by  the  reading  of  an  excerpt  from  Furlong’s 
sworn  testimony  taken  in  the  Los  Angeles  courts.  Here 
it  is: 

CROSS  EXAMINATION. 

By  Mr.  Harriman: 

Q. — What  is  your  business? 

A. — I am  the  president  and  manager  of  the  Furlong  Secret 
Service  Company,  St.  Louis,  Missouri. 

Q. — You  helped  to  arrest  these  men? 

A.— I did. 

Q. — What  right  did  you  have? 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  287 

Mr.  Lawler— That  is  objected  to  as  a conclusion  of  the  witness. 

Q—  By  Mr.  Harriman:  Did  you  have  a warrant? 

A. — No,  sir. 

The  Commissioner — The  other  question  is  withdrawn  and  now 
you  ask  him  if  he  had  a warrant? 

Mr.  Harriman — Yes,  sir. 

Q. — Arrested  them  without  a warrant? 

A. — Yes,  sir. 

Q. — You  took  this  property  away  from  them  without  a war- 
rant? 

A. — Yes,  sir. 

Q. — Went  through  the  house  and  searched  it  without  a 
warrant? 

A. — How  is  that? 

Q. — Went  through  the  house  and  searched  it  without  a war- 
rant? 

A.— Yes. 

Q. — And  took  the  papers  from  them? 

A. — I didn’t  take  any  papers  from  them.  I took  them  and 
locked  them  up  and  then  went  back  and  got  the  papers. 

Q. — Took  them  from  their  house  and  kept  them,  did  you? 

A. — No,  sir.  I turned  them  over 

Q. — Well,  you  kept  them,  so  far  as  they  are  concerned? 

A. — Yes,  sir. 

Q. — Who  paid  you  for  doing  this  work? 

A. — The  Mexican  government. 

Nor  was  Furlong  backward  about  confessing  the  pur- 
pose of  the  hunt.  By  a Los  Angeles  newspaper 
Furlong,  in  bragging  about  the  arrest,  was  quoted  as 
asserting  that  he  had  been  “after”  Magon  and  his  friends 
for  three  years.  During  that  period,  he  said,  he  had 
succeeded  in  “getting”  180  Mexican  revolutionists  and 
turning  them  over  to  the  Diaz  government,  which  “had 
made  short  work  of  them.”  According  to  an  affidavit 
properly  sworn  to  by  W.  F.  Zwickey  and  on  record  in 
the  Los  Angeles  courts,  Furlong  stated  that  he  was 
“not  so  much  interested  in  this  case  and  the  charges  for 
which  the  defendants  are  being  tried  as  in  getting  them 


288 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


over  into  Arizona;  that  all  we  (meaning  by  ‘we’  himself 
and  the  Mexican  authorities)  want  is  to  get  the  defend- 
ants down  into  Arizona,  and  then  we  will  see  that  they 
get  across  the  line.” 

Attorney  General  Bonaparte  seems  to  have  had  the 
same  purpose  as  Furlong  and  the  Mexican  authorities, 
even  at  a time  when  the  case  in  hand  did  not  involve 
extradition  to  Mexico  or  even  to  Arizona.  During  a 
hearing  before  Judge  Ross  in  San  Francisco  Mr.  Bona- 
parte had  the  temerity  to  wire  his  district  attorney  in 
that  city : “Resist  habeas  corpus  proceedings  in  case 

of  Magon  et  al.  on  all  grounds,  as  they  are  wanted  in 
Mexico This  telegram  was  read  in  court.  The  inci- 
dent was  all  the  more  remarkable  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  only  a few  days  previously  Bonaparte,  in  answer  to 
a query  from  U.  S.  Senator  Perkins,  had  replied  by 
letter  assuring  the  senator  that  the  purpose  of  the  prose- 
cution of  these  men  was  not  to  send  them  back  to 
Mexico. 

Five  separate  and  distinct  charges  were  brought 
against  Magon  and  his  associates,  one  after  another. 
First,  it  was  “resisting  an  officer.”  Then  it  was  the  old 
charge  of  “murder  and  robbery.”  Later  it  was  criminal 
libel.  Still  later  it  was  murdering  “John  Doe”  in  Mex- 
ico. Finally  it  was  conspiracy  to  violate  the  neutrality 
laws. 

Undoubtedly  the  conspirators  would  have  early  suc- 
ceeded in  their  purpose  to  railroad  the  men  back  to 
Mexico  had  not  a number  of  Los  Angeles  organizations 
formed  a defense  committee,  held  mass  meetings  to 
arouse  public  sentiment,  collected  funds,  and  hired  two 
able  attorneys,  Job  Harriman  and  A.  R.  Holston.  These 
lawyers  after  a long  fight  succeeded  in  driving  the  prose- 
cution into  a corner  where  they  were  compelled  to  pro- 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  289 

ceed  only  under  action  involving  imprisonment  in  this 
country. 

During  the  early  stages  of  the  legal  fight  the  Diaz 
agents  were  suppressing  the  paper  “Revolucion”  in 
characteristic  style.  After  the  arrest  of  its  three  editors, 
the  editorial  emergency  was  met  by  L.  Gutierrez  De 
Lara,  who  had  not  previously  been  in  any  way  identified 
with  the  Liberal  Party.  Two  weeks  later  De  Lara  was 
keeping  company  with  Magon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera. 
His  extradition  was  sought  on  the  ground  that  he  had 
committed  robbery  “on  the  blank  day  of  the  blank 
month  of  1906  in  the  blank  state  of  Mexico !” 

Despite  the  passing  of  De  Lara  “Revolucion”  con- 
tinued to  appear  regularly.  As  soon  as  the  agents  of 
the  prosecution  could  locate  the  new  editor  they  promptly 
arrested  him.  He  proved  to  be  Manuel  Sarabia  and  he 
was  charged  with  the  same  offense  as  happened  to  stand 
against  Magon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera  at  the  time. 

Who  was  left  to  publish  little  “Revolucion?”  There 
were  the  printers.  They — Modesto  Diaz,  Federico  Ariz- 
mendez  and  a boy  named  Ulibarri — rose  to  the  occasion. 
But  in  less  than  a month  they,  too,  were  led  to  jail, 
all  three  of  them  charged  with  criminal  libel.  Thus  the 
Mexican  opposition  newspaper  passed  into  history.  Inci- 
dentally, Modesto  Diaz  died  as  a result  of  the  confine- 
ment following  that  arrest. 

“Revolucion”  was  not  an  anarchist  paper.  It  was  not 
a socialist  paper.  It  did  not  advocate  the  assassination 
of  presidents  or  the  abolition  of  government.  It  merely 
stood  for  the  principles  which  Americans  in  general 
since  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States  came  into  being  have  consid- 
ered as  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  any  nation.  If 
an  American  newspaper  of  its  ideals  had  been  sup- 


290 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


pressed  by  one-tenth  as  brazen  methods,  a righteous 
protest  would  have  echoed  and  re-echoed  across  the  con- 
tinent. But  it  was  only  a Mexican  newspaper,  an  oppo- 
nent of  President  Diaz,  and — it  was  suppressed. 

The  story  of  Lazaro  Gutierrez  De  Lara  well  exem- 
plifies the  system  of  robbing  the  enemies  of  Diaz  of 
their  personal  liberty  in  the  United  States,  as  practiced 
by  the  Department  of  Justice  working  in  conjunction 
with  Mexican  agents  in  various  parts  of  the  West  during 
the  past  five  years. 

De  Lara  was  taken  to  jail  on  September  27,  1907,  on 
telegraphic  instructions  from  Attorney  General  Bona- 
parte. As  before  stated,  he  was  charged  with  larceny 
committed  on  the  blank  day  of  the  blank  month  of 
1906  in  the  blank  state  of  the  Republic  of  Mexico,  and 
on  this  awful  indictment  his  extradition  to  Mexico  was 
sought. 

The  extradition  treaty  between  the  United  States  and 
Mexico  provides  that  the  country  asking  extradition 
must  furnish  evidence  of  guilt  within  forty  days  of  the 
arrest  of  the  accused.  In  De  Lara’s  case  this  little 
technicality  was  waived,  and  at  the  end  of  forty  days  a 
new  complaint  was  filed  containing  the  illuminating 
information  that  the  alleged  crime  had  been  committed 
in  the  state  of  Sonora.  This  was  considered  sufficient 
ground  upon  which  to  hold  the  prisoner  another  forty 
days. 

Nothing  happened  at  the  end  of  the  second  forty 
days,  and  on  December  22  Attorney  Harriman  applied 
for  a writ  of  habeas  corpus.  The  writ  was  denied  and 
the  prosecution  was  given  more  time  in  which  to  file  a 
third  complaint.  De  Lara  was  then  accused  of  stealing 
uncut  stove-zvood  in  the  state  of  Sonora,  August  13, 

1903 ! 

Several  peculiar  facts  developed  at  the  hearing.  One 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  29l 

was  that  De  Lara  had  been  tried  and  acquitted  of  the 
identical  offense  in  Mexico  more  than  four  years  previ- 
ously. Another  was  that  while  at  the  trial  in  Mexico  the 
value  of  the  wood  was  fixed  by  the  prosecution  at  four 
dollars,  at  the  Los  Angeles  hearing  its  value  was  placed 
at  twenty-eight  dollats.  Because  a thief  cannot  be  extra- 
dited for  stealing  less  than  twenty-five  dollars  the  wood 
market  had  taken  a spectacular  jump.  But,  by  an  over- 
sight of  the  prosecution  the  market  even  then  did  not 
jump  quite  high  enough,  for  by  discovering  that  the  price 
of  silver  was  a little  lower  than  usual  that  year,  Attor- 
ney Harriman  showed  that  the  alleged  value,  fifty-six 
Mexican  pesos,  did  not  come  to  twenty-eight  dollars  in 
American  money,  but  a little  less  than  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, and  so  on  that  technicality  the  life  of  De  Lara 
was  saved. 

The  facts  of  the  case  were  that  De  Lara  had  never 
stolen  any  wood,  but  that,  while  acting  as  attorney  for 
a widow  whom  a wealthy  American  mine  owner  was 
trying  to  euchre  out  of  a piece  of  land,  he  had  given 
the  widow  permission  to  cut  some  wood  on  the  land  for 
her  own  use.  The  audacity  of  the  prosecutors  in  this 
case  would  be  unbelievable  were  it  not  a matter  of  rec- 
ord. De  Lara  was  released,  but  only  after  one  hundred 
and  four  precious  days  of  his  life  had  been  wasted  in 
an  American  jail.  He  had  been  luckier  than  many  of 
his  compatriots,  he  had  won  his  fight  against  extradi- 
tion, but  that  three  and  one-half  months  were  gone  and 
could  never  be  brought  back.  Moreover,  “Revolucion” 
had  been  suppressed  and  a Mexican  gentleman  had  been 
taught  that  he  who  opposes  the  tyrant  may  be  properly 
disciplined  in  the  United  States  as  well  as  in  Mexico. 

Magon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera  remained  in  prison  con- 
tinuously since  August  23,  1907,  for  nearly  three  years. 
From  early  in  Tuly,  1908,  to  January,  1909,  they  were 


292 


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held  incommunicado  in  the  Los  Angeles  county  jail, 
which  means  that  no  visitors,  not  even  newspaper  men, 
were  permitted  to  see  them.  For  a time  not  even  Mrs. 
Rivera  and  her  children  were  permitted  to  see  the  hus- 
band and  father.  Only  their  local  attorney  saw  them. 
Two  attorneys  who  were  representing  them  in  another 
state  were  excluded  on  the  flimsy  ground  that  they  were 
not  attorneys  of  record  in  California. 

The  only  excuse  Oscar  Lawler,  United  States  Dis- 
trict Attorney,  had  to  offer  for  this  severe  isolation 
when,  in  July,  1908,  I called  upon  him  at  his  office  and 
protested  was: 

“We  are  doing  this  at  the  request  of  the  Mexican 
government.  They  have  accommodated  us  and  it’s  no 
more  than  right  that  zve  accommodate  them.” 

Requests  were  also  made  by  the  Mexican  government 
that  the  men  be  not  admitted  to  bail  and  the  requests 
were  obeyed.  The  privilege  of  liberty  on  bail  pending 
trial  is  guaranteed  by  the  law  to  all  accused  persons 
below  the  murderer  in  cold  blood,  and  yet  Judge  Wel- 
born,  sitting  both  as  district  and  circuit  judge,  denied 
the  men  this  privilege.  Bail  had  previously  been  fixed 
as  $5,000,  ten  times  the  amount  required  in  similar  cases 
that  had  previously  come  up.  In  the  latter  part  of  July, 
1908,  this  amount  was  raised  and  presented  in  the  most 
gilt-edged  form,  but  it  was  not  accepted.  Judge  Wel- 
born’s  excuse  was  that  a rule  of  the  Supreme  Court 
says  that  during  habeas  corpus  proceedings  the  custody 
of  a prisoner  shall  not  be  changed.  This  rule  he  strangely 
interpreted  to  mean  that  these  particular  prisoners 
should  not  be  admitted  to  bail. 

During  their  six  months  of  incommunicado,  when 
the  prisoners  were  unable  to  make  any  public  state- 
ment, Lawler  took  advantage  of  their  enforced  silence 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  293 

publicly  to  declare  them  guilty  not  only  of  the  offenses 
charged,  but  of  others,  among  them  a plot  to  assassinate 
President  Diaz,  when,  as  a matter  of  fact,  Lawler  had 
no  evidence  whatsoever  of  such  a plot. 

After  nearly  two  years  in  county  jails  Magon,  Villar- 
real and  Rivera,  were  adjudged  guilty  of  conspiring  to 
violate  the  neutrality  laws  by  conspiring  to  set  on  foot  a 
military  expedition  against  Mexico.  They  were  sen- 
tenced to  eighteen  months’  imprisonment  and  were  con- 
fined in  the  penitentiary  at  Florence,  Arizona.  Sarabia 
was  not  tried.  Having  waived  extradition  proceedings, 
he  had  been  taken  to  Arizona  ahead  of  the  others.  Here 
he  was  released  on  bail  and  soon  afterwards  was  mar- 
ried to  Miss  Elizabeth  D.  Trowbridge,  a Boston  girl 
of  old  and  wealthy  family.  His  health  broken  by  long 
confinement,  believing  that  a trial  would  result  in  his 
imprisonment  in  spite  of  the  lack  of  evidence  against 
him,  Sarabia  was  persuaded  to  pay  his  bail  and  with  his 
wife  flee  to  Europe.  There  he  has  since  interested  him- 
self in  writing  for  various  English,  French,  Spanish  and 
Belgian  papers  articles  upon  the  democratic  movements  in 
Mexico. 

The  campaign  to  extradite  the  refugees  on  charges  of 
“murder  and  robbery,”  generally  failed.  It  succeeded 
insofar  as  it  kept  a good  many  Liberals  in  jail  for  many 
months,  drained  their  resources,  weakened  their  organi- 
zation, and  intimidated  their  friends,  but  it  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  extraditing  them.  Most  of  the  Liberals  deported 
were  deported  by  immigration  officials  or  by  kidnapping. 

The  “murder  and  robbery”  campaign  failed  because  it 
was  so  plainly  in  contradiction  with  American  laws  and 
American  principles.  The  U.  S.  prosecuters  must  have 
known  this  from  the  start  but,  in  order  to  accommodate 
Diaz,  they  went  ahead  with  the  prosecutions.  That  this 


294 


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campaign  was  not  a mere  blundering  on  the  part  of  in- 
dividual U.  S.  Attorneys,  but  that  it  was  a policy  of  the 
highest  officials  of  the  government  was  shown,  in  1908, 
when  numerous  published  reports  from  various  depart- 
ments at  Washington  and  from  Oyster  Bay  expressed 
the  desire  of  the  administration  to  deport  Mexican  polit- 
ical refugees  “as  common  criminals .” 

Failing  in  its  efforts  to  deport  Mexican  refugees  whole- 
sale “as  common  criminals,”  our  Department  of  Justice 
concentrated  its  energies  to  secure  their  imprisonment  for 
violation  of  the  neutrality  laws  or  conspiracy  to  violate 
the  neutrality  laws.  It  is  a high  misdemeanor  to  set  on 
foot  a military  expedition  against  a “friendly  power,”  or 
to  conspire  to  set  on  foot  a military  expedition  against  a 
“friendly  power.”  In  addition  to  Magon,  Villarreal, 
Rivera  and  Sarabia,  some  of  the  Liberal  refugees  who 
have  been  prosecuted  under  this  law  are  Tomas  de  Espi- 
nosa, Jose  M.  Rangel,  Gasimiro  H.  Regalado,  Lauro 
Aguirre,  Raymundo  Cano,  Antonio  Aruajo,  Amado  Her- 
nandez, Tomas  Morales,  Encardacion  Diaz  Guerra,  Juan 
Castro,  Priciliano  Silva,  Jose  Maria  Martinez,  Benjamin 
Silva,  Leocadio  Trevino,  Jose  Ruiz,  Benito  Solis,  Tomas 
Sarabia,  Praxedis  Guerrero,  Sirvando  T.  Agis,  John 
Murray,  Calixto  Guerra,  Guillermo  Adan,  E.  Davilla, 
Ramon  Torres  Delgrado,  Amendo  Morantes,  Francisco 
Sainz,  Marcelleno  Ibarra  and  Inez  Ruiz. 

Most  of  the  arrests  occurred  at  San  Antonio,  Del  Rio, 
El  Paso,  Douglass,  or  Los  Angeles.  This  is  by  no  means 
a complete  list,  but  is  a list  of  the  most  notable  cases. 

In  nearly  all  of  these  cases  the  accused  were  kept  in 
jail  for  month  after  month  without  an  opportunity  of 
proving  their  innocence.  When  the  cases  came  to  trial, 
they  were  usually  acquitted.  Convictions  were  secured  in 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  295 

the  cases  of  Espinosa,  Aruajo,  Guerra,  Priciliano  Silva, 
Trevino,  Rangel,  and  Magon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera. 
Prison  sentences  ranging  from  one  and  one-half  to  two 
and  one-half  years  were  given  the  convicted  ones  and 
they  were  confined  either  at  Leavenworth,  Kansas,  or 
Florence,  Arizona. 

Were  these  men  guilty?  If  not,  how  is  it  that  they 
were  convicted  ? 

It  is  my  opinion  that  not  one  was  guilty  within  the 
proper  interpretation  of  the  statute,  that  the  laws  were 
stretched  to  convict  them,  that  in  some  instances,  at  least, 
they  were  deliberately  jobbed. 

This  is  a bold  statement,  but  I think  the  facts  bear  me 
out.  That  there  exists  on  the  part  of  our  government 
a most  incontinent  desire  to  serve  Diaz  is  shown  by  the 
circumstance  that  cases  where  the  evidence  of  violation 
of  the  neutrality  laws  is  ten  times  as  clear — as  American 
expeditions  to  aid  revolutions  in  Central  American  or 
South  American  countries — have  been  and  are  habitually 
overlooked  by  our  authorities.  But  this  fact  I do  not 
need  to  urge  in  favor  of  the  Mexican  Liberals.  The  truth 
is  that  there  has  never  been  any  adequate  evidence  to 
show  a violation  of  the  neutrality  laws  on  their  part. 

Did  they  set  on  foot  a military  expedition  against  a 
friendly  power?  Did  they  plan  to  do  so?  No.  What 
did  they  do?  They  came  to  this  country  and  here  planned 
to  aid  a revolutionary  movement  in  Mexico.  Here  they 
fled  to  save  their  lives,  here  they  staid,  planning  to  re- 
turn and  take  part  in  a rebellion  upon  Mexican  soil; 
nothing  more. 

Did  this  constitute  a violation  of  the  neutrality  laws? 

Not  in  the  opinion  of  U.  S.  Judge  Maxey,  of  Texas, 
who  reviewed  some  of  the  cases.  January  7,  1908,  the 


296 


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San  Antonio  Daily  Light  and  Gazette,  quotes  Judge 
Maxey  as  follows: 

“If  Jose  M.  Rangel,  the  defendant,  merely  went  across  the 
river  and  joined  in  the  fight,  he  had  every  right  to  do  so,  and 
I will  so  tell  the  jury  in  my  charge.  This  indictment  is  not  for 
fighting  in  a foreign  country,  but  for  beginning  and  setting  on 
foot  an  expedition  in  Val  Verde  county.” 

The  exact  text  of  the  law  is  as  follows: 

“Every  person  who,  within  the  territory  or  jurisdiction  of 
the  United  States,  begins,  or  sets  on  foot,  or  provides  or  pre- 
pares the  means  for,  any  military  expedition  or  enterprise,  to 
be  carried  on  from  thence  against  the  territory  or  dominions  of 
any  foreign  prince  or  state,  or  of  any  colony,  district  or  peo- 
ple, with  whom  the  United  States  are  at  peace,  shall  be 
deemed  guilty  of  a high  misdemeanor,  and  shall  be  fined 
not  exceeding  $3,000,  and  imprisoned  not  more  than  three 
years.” 

Magon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera,  the  leaders,  not  only 
did  not  set  on  foot  an  expedition  against  Mexico,  but 
they  did  not  even  cross  the  river  and  fight  themselves. 
Their  conviction  was  secured  through  the  palpably  per- 
jured testimony  of  a Mexican  detective  named  Vasquez, 
who  presented  the  only  direct  evidence  against  them. 
Vasquez  claimed  to  be  a spy  who  had  penetrated  a meet- 
ing of  a Liberal  club.  There,  he  declared,  letters  were 
read  from  Magon  ordering  the  club  to  constitute  itself  as 
a military  body  and  invade  Mexico.  At  this  meeting,  said 
Vasquez,  military  appointments,  forwarded  by  Magon, 
were  made.  The  names,  said  he,  were  written  by  a mem- 
ber named  Salcido.  The  paper  was  produced,  but  hand- 
writing experts  brought  by  the  defense  proved  the  docu- 
ment to  be  a forgery.  Vasquex  then  changed  his  testi- 
mony and  swore  that  he  wrote  the  names  himself.  This 
was  a vital  point  in  the  testimony  and,  had  the  public 


AMERICAN  PERSECUTION  OF  ENEMIES  OF  DIAZ  297 

prosecutors  been  interested  in  upholding  the  law , rather 
than  in  persecuting  the  political  enemies  of  Diaz,  they 
would  have  discharged  the  defendants  and  prosecuted 
Vasquez  for  perjury. 

The  general  persecution  of  Mexican  political  refugees 
continued  unabated  up  to  June,  1910,  when  the  scandal 
became  so  great  that  the  matter  was  presented  to  Con- 
gress, and  the  facts  which  I have  set  down  here,  but  in 
more  complete  form,  were  testified  to  before  the  House 
Rules  Committee.  Resolutions  providing  for  a general 
investigation  of  the  persecutions  are  now  pending  in  both 
houses. 

Up  to  the  initiation  of  congressional  proceedings  the 
government  planned  to  continue  the  persecutions.  Re- 
peatedly it  was  announced  that,  when  the  terms  of  Ma- 
gon,  Villarreal  and  Rivera,  at  the  Florence  penitentiary, 
ended,  they  would  be  prosecuted  on  further  charges.  But 
on  August  3 they  were  released  and  were  not  re-arrested. 
Since  that  date  there  have  been  no  prosecutions,  to  my 
knowledge.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  laws  of  this  coun- 
try, and  the  great  American  principle  of  protection  for 
political  refugees,  will  not  again  be  abused,  for  I fear 
that  the  conspirators  are  only  waiting  for  the  public  to 
forget  their  past  crimes. 

There  may  be  further  persecutions  and  there  may  not. 
Even  if  there  are  not,  Justice  will  not  be  satisfied;  the 
friends  of  decency  and  of  liberty  cannot  be  content.  For 
some  of  the  victims  are  still  enduring  unjust  punishment 
which  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  American  people  to  end. 
There  is  Lazaro  Puente,  for  example,  the  peaceful  editor, 
thirteen  years  a resident  of  the  United  States,  who  was 
unjustly  and  unlawfully  deported  as  an  “undesirable  im- 
migrant” by  our  immigration  officials.  Lazaro  Puente  is 


298 


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a prisoner  in  San  Juan  de  Ulua,  the  military  fortress  in 
Vera  Cruz  Harbor.  He  has  been  a prisoner  there  for 
more  than  four  years.  Unjustly  he  was  yielded  up  to  the 
Diaz  police;  in  justice  the  American  people  should  de~ 
mand  that  he  be  returned  free  to  this  country. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 

“But  Diaz  himself — isn’t  he  a pretty  good  sort  of 
fellow?” 

It  is  a question  that  almost  invariably  rises  to  the 
lips  of  the  average  American  when  he  learns  for  the 
first  time  of  the  slavery,  peonage  and  political  oppres- 
sion of  Mexico.  Though  the  question  is  only  another 
evidence  that  the  Diaz  press  agents  have  done  their 
work  well,  yet  it  is  one  that  may  very  well  be  exam- 
ined separately. 

The  current  American  estimate  of  Porfirio  Diaz,  at 
least  up  to  the  past  year  or  two,  has  indeed  been  that 
he  is  a very  good  fellow.  Theodore  Roosevelt,  in  writ- 
ing to  James  Creelman  after  the  publication  in  Pear- 
son’s Magazine  of  the  latter’s  famous  laudatory  article, 
declared  that  among  contemporary  statesmen  there  was 
none  greater  than  Porfirio  Diaz.  In  the  same  year,  dur- 
ing a trip  to  Mexico,  William  Jennings  Bryan  spoke  in 
the  most  eulogistic  terms  of  Diaz’s  “great  work.”  David 
Starr  Jordan  of  Stanford  University,  in  recent  speeches, 
has  echoed  Creelman’s  assertion  that  Diaz  is  the  greatest 
man  in  the  western  hemisphere.  And  hundreds  of  our 
most  distinguished  citizens  have  expressed  themselves 
in  a similar  vein.  On  the  part  of  prominent  Americans 
traveling  in  Mexico,  it  has  become  a custom,  a sort  of 
formality  of  the  trip,  to  banquet  at  Chapultepec  castle — • 
the  lesser  lights  at  Chapultepec  cafe — and  to  raise  the 
after-dinner  voice  in  most  extravagant  praise,  loudly  to 


299 


300 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


attribute  to  Porfirio  Diaz  the  virtues  of  a superman, 
even  of  a demi-god. 

Were  not  the  facts  overwhelmingly  to  the  contrary, 
did  not  the  easily  provable  acts  of  Porfirio  Diaz  tell  an 
entirely  different  story,  I would  not  presume  to  question 
the  estimates  of  such  men,  especially  when  those  estimates 
agree  and  are  accepted  generally  as  correct.  But  when 
the  facts  speak  for  themselves,  it  matters  not  how 
obscure  may  he  the  individual  who  brings  them  to  light. 
It  matters  not,  even,  how  distinguished  the  men  who 
disregard  those  facts,  for  facts  are  greater  than  men. 
Current  Literature,  in  calling  attention  to  the  new  con- 
ception of  Porfirio  Diaz  that  has  of  late  been  gaining 
ground  in  America,  refers  to  Diaz  as  a man  of  mystery. 
“Is  he  a sublime  statesman  or  is  he  a colossal  criminal?” 
it  inquires.  To  which  I would  reply  that  we  have  our 
ideals  of  statesmanship  and  our  concepts  of  criminality ; 
all  we  need  upon  which  to  base  an  estimate  are  the  facts 
of  the  life  of  the  man  in  question.  Given  the  facts  and 
the  mystery  dispels  itself. 

In  judging  the  life  of  a man,  especially  of  a man  who 
has  decided  the  fate  of  thousands,  who  has  “saved  a 
nation,”  or  wrecked  it,  small  virtues  and  small  vices 
count  for  little;  insignificant  acts  of  good  or  ill  are 
important  only  in  the  aggregate.  A man  may  have  com- 
mitted grave  crimes,  yet  if  he  has  brought  more  joy  to 
the  world  than  sorrow,  he  should  be  judged  kindly.  On 
the  other  hand,  he  may  be  credited  with  laudable  deeds, 
yet  if  he  has  locked  the  wheels  of  progress  for  a time 
to  feed  his  own  ambition,  history  will  not  acquit  him  of 
the  crime.  It  is  the  balance  that  counts;  it  is  the  scales 
that  decide.  Will  not  Porfirio  Diaz,  when  weighed  in 
the  balance  of  his  good  and  evil  deeds,  be  found  want- 
ing— terribly  wanting?  His  friends  may  sing  his  praises, 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


301 


but  when  they,  his  best  friends,  begin  to  specify,  to  point 
out  their  reasons  for  selecting  him  for  a high  niche  in 
the  hall  of  good  fame,  is  it  not  found  that  they  them- 
selves become,  instead  of  his  advocates,  his  prosecutors? 
Out  of  even  their  mouths  is  he  not  convicted  and  by 
those  our  ideals  of  statesmanship  and  our  concepts  of 
criminality  will  we  not  judge  him,  not  a statesman,  but 
a criminal,  and  because  there  is  no  individual  man  in  the 
world  who  wields  so  much  power  over  so  many  human 
beings,  will  we  not  judge  him  the  most  colossal  criminal 
of  our  time? 

It  is  curious,  this  almost  universal  feeling — in  this 
country — that  Porfirio  Diaz  is  a very  good  fellow.  But 
it  can  be  explained.  For  one  thing,  individuals  who 
have  not  had  the  opportunity  to  judge  a particular  man 
or  thing  for  themselves,  though  they  be  college  presi- 
dents and  congressmen,  are  apt  to  accept  the  word  of 
others  as  to  that  man  or  thing.  Porfirio  Diaz,  knowing 
this  and  valuing  the  good  opinions  of  men  who  do  not 
know,  has  spent  millions  for  printer’s  ink  in  this  coun- 
try. For  another  thing,  most  men  are  susceptible  to 
flattery  and  Diaz  is  a good  flatterer.  As  prominent  Cath- 
olics journeying  to  Rome  seek  an  audience  with  the  Pope, 
so  Americans  traveling  to  Mexico  seek  an  audience  with 
General  Diaz ; they  usually  get  it  and  are  flattered.  Still 
again,  to  paraphrase  an  old  proverb,  men  not  only  do 
not  look  a gift  horse  in  the  mouth,  but  they  do  not 
look  the  giver  in  the  mouth.  Despite  the  ancient  warn- 
ing, men  do  not  usually  beware  of  the  Greeks  when  they 
bring  gifts;  and  Diaz  is  free  with  gifts  to  men  whose 
good  opinion  is  influential  with  others.  Finally,  there 
is  nothing  that  succeeds  like  success,  and  Diaz  has  suc- 
ceeded. Power  dazzles  the  strong  as  well  as  the  weak 
and  Diaz’s  power  has  dazzled  men  and  cowed  them  until 


302 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


they  had  not  the  courage  to  look  steadily  at  the  glare 
long  enough  to  see  the  bones  and  carrion  behind  it.  I 
do  not  for  a minute  imagine  that  any  decent  American 
approves  of  the  acts  of  Porfirio  Diaz.  I merely  guess 
that  they — the  decent  ones — are  ignorant  of  those  deeds 
and  are  moved  to  strong  praise  by  having  accepted  the 
word  of  others — and  by  the  dazzle  of  success. 

As  for  me,  I do  not  come  with  a new  ideal  of  states- 
manship with  which  to  change  your  opinions,  but  I come 
with  facts.  With  those  facts  before  you,  if  you  hold 
Washington  a great  statesman,  or  Jefferson,  or  Lincoln, 
or  any  other  enduring  light  of  American  political  his- 
tory, I am  sure  you  cannot  at  the  same  time  hold  Porfirio 
Diaz  a great  statesman.  What  Porfirio  Diaz  has  done, 
Washington,  Jefferson,  Lincoln,  would  have  abhorred  to 
do,  and  you  yourself  would  abhor  to  do  or  see  done,  are 
you  really  an  admirer  of  any  or  all  of  these  men. 

Porfirio  Diaz  is  truly  a striking  figure.  He  must  be 
a genius  of  a sort  and  there  must  actually  be  some  traits 
of  character  about  him  to  be  admired.  Let  us  examine 
some  of  his  acts  with  a view  to  discovering  whether  or 
not  he  may  justly  be  called  the  greatest  living  statesman 
or  “the  grandest  man  in  the  Americas.” 

First  let  us  examine  those  broadly  general  allega- 
tions upon  which  is  based  his  good  fame  abroad.  Chief 
among  these  are  three,  that  Diaz  has  “made  modern 
Mexico,”  that  he  brought  peace  to  Mexico  and  should 
therefore  stand  as  a sort  of  prince  of  peace,  and  that  he 
is  a model  of  virtue  in  his  private  life. 

Did  Porfirio  Diaz  “make”  modern  Mexico?  Is  Mex- 
ico modern?  Hardly.  Neither  industrially  nor  in  the 
matter  of  public  education,  nor  in  the  form  of  govern- 
ment is  Mexico  modern.  Industrially,  it  is  at  least  a 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


303 


quarter  of  a century  behind  the  times;  in  the  matter  of 
public  education  it  is  at  least  a half  century  behind  the 
times;  in  its  system  of  government  it  is  worthy  of  the 
Egypt  of  three  thousand  years  ago. 

True,  Mexico  has  seen  some  advancement  in  some 
lines — especially  industrially — during  the  past  thirty- 
four  years.  But  that  mere  fact  does  not  argue  any  pro- 
pelling force  on  the  part  of  Porfirio  Diaz.  In  order  to 
show  that  Diaz  was  the  special  propelling  force  will  it 
not  be  necessary  to  show  that  Mexico  has  advanced  in 
that  period  faster  than  other  countries?  And  should  it 
be  shown  that  Mexico  has  advanced  more  slowly  than 
almost  any  other  large  nation  in  the  world  in  the  past 
thirty-four  years,  would  it  not  be  logical  to  attribute  to 
Diaz  at  least  some  of  that  retarding  force? 

Consider  the  United  States  thirty-four  years  ago  and 
then  today,  and  then  consider  Mexico.  Consider  that 
the  world  has  been  built  over,  industrially,  in  the  past 
thirty-four  years.  To  make  the  comparison  perfectly 
unassailable,  disregard  the  United  States  and  European 
countries  and  compare  the  progress  of  Mexico  with  other 
Latin-American  countries.  Among  persons  who  have 
traveled  extensively  in  Argentine,  Chili,  Brazil  and  even 
Cuba,  and  Mexico,  there  is  a pretty  good  agreement 
that  Mexico  is  the  most  backward  of  the  five — in  the 
matter  of  government,  in  the  matter  of  public  education, 
even  industrially.  Who  made  Argentine?  Who  made 
Chili?  Who  made  Brazil?  Why  don’t  we  find  a 
“maker”  of  these  countries?  The  fact  is  that  whatever 
modernization  Mexico  has  had  during  the  past  thirty- 
four  years  must  be  attributed  to  evolution — that  is,  to 
the  general  progress  of  the  world — instead  of  to  Porfirio 
Diaz.  In  general,  Porfirio  Diaz  has  been  a reactionary 
'force.  His  claims  for  being  progressive  are  all  based 


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upon  one  fact — upon  his  having  “encouraged”  foreign 
capital. 

“Diaz,  the  peace-maker,  the  greatest  peace-maker 
alive,  greater  than  Roosevelt!”  chanted  an  American 
politician  in  a banquet  at  the  Mexican  capital  recently. 
And  the  chant  was  only  an  echo  of  louder  voices.  I 
remember  seeing,  not  long  ago,  a news  item  stating 
that  the  American  Peace  Society  had  made  Porfirio 
Diaz  an  hono~ary  vice-president,  in  consideration  of 
his  having  brought  peace  to  Mexico.  The  theory  seems 
to  be  that  since  the  history  of  Mexico  before  Diaz  was 
full  of  wars  and  violent  changes  in  the  government  and 
the  history  of  Mexico  under  Diaz  has  been  without  vio- 
lent upheavals  of  far-reaching  effect,  Diaz  must  neces- 
sarily be  a humane,  Christ-like  creature  who  shrinks  at 
the  mention  of  bloodshed  and  whose  example  of  loving- 
kindness is  so  compelling  that  none  of  his  subjects  have 
the  heart  to  do  anything  but  emulate  him. 

In  answer  to  which  it  will  only  be  necessary  to  refer 
the  reader  to  my  account  of  how  Diaz  began  his  career 
as  a statesmen  by  deliberately  breaking  the  peace  of 
Mexico  himself,  and  how  he  has  been  breaking  the 
peace  ever  since — by  making  bloody  war  upon  the  self- 
respecting,  democratic  elements  among  his  people.  He 
has  kept  the  peace — if  it  can  be  called  keeping  the 
peace — by  killing  off  his  opponents  as  fast  as  their 
heads  have  appeared  above  the  horizon.  This  sort  of 
peace  is  what  the  Mexican  writer  DeZayas  calls  “me- 
chanical peace.”  It  has  no  virtue,  because  the  fruits  of 
legitimate  peace  fail  to  ripen  under  it.  It  neither  brings 
happiness  to  the  nation,  nor  prepares  the  nation  for 
happiness.  It  prepares  it  only  for  violent  revolution. 

For  more  than  twenty  years  before  arriving  at  the 
supreme  power  in  Mexico  Diaz  had  been  a professional 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


305 


soldier  and  almost  continually  in  the  field.  The  wars 
of  those  times  were  by  no  means  unnecessary  affairs. 
Mexico  did  not  fight  simply  because  it  is  the  Mexican 
character  to  be  looking  always  for  trouble,  for  it  isn’t. 
Diaz  fought  in  the  Three  Years  War,  in  which  the  throt- 
tling grip  of  the  Catholic  church  on  the  throat  of  the 
nation  was  broken  and  the  nation  secured  a real  repub- 
lican constitution.  Afterwards  he  fought  in  the  War 
of  Maximilian,  which  ended  in  the  execution  of  the 
Austrian  prince  whom  the  armies  of  Napoleon  Third 
had  seated  as  emperor. 

During  these  twenty  odd  years  Diaz  fought  on  the 
side  of  Mexico  and  patriotism.  He  probably  fought  no 
more  wisely  nor  energetically  than  thousands  of  other 
Mexicans,  but  he  had  the  good  luck  to  have  become 
acquainted  in  his  youth  with  Benito  Juarez,  who,  years 
later,  as  father  of  the  constitution  and  constitutional 
president,  guided  the  destinies  of  the  country  safely 
through  many  troublous  years.  Juarez  remembered  Diaz, 
watched  his  work  and  promoted  him  gradually  from  one 
rank  to  another  until,  at  the  downfall  of  Maximilian, 
Don  Porfirio  held  a rank  which  in  our  country  would 
carry  the  title  of  major-general.  Note  how  Diaz  repaid 
the  favors  of  Juarez. 

Following  the  overthrow  of  Maximilian,  peace  reigned 
in  Mexico.  Juarez  was  president.  The  constitution  was 
put  into  operation.  The  people  were  sick  unto  death  of 
war.  There  threatened  neither  foreign  foe  nor  internal 
revolt.  Yet  the  ambitious  Diaz  wantonly  and  without 
any  plausible  excuse  stirred  up  rebellion  after  rebellion 
for  the  purpose  of  securing  for  himself  the  supreme 
power  of  the  land. 

There  is  evidence  that  Diaz  began  plotting  to  seize 
the  presidency  even  before  the  fall  of  the  empire.  Dur- 


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ing  those  last  clays  when  Maximilian  was  penned  up  in 
Queretaro  friends  of  Diaz  approached  several  military 
leaders  and  proposed  that  they  form  a military  party  to 
secure  the  presidency  by  force  of  arms,  which  prize 
would  be  raffled  off  among  Generals  Diaz,  Corona  and 
Escobedo.  General  Escobedo  refused  to  enter  into  the 
conspiracy  and  the  plan  consequently  fell  through.  Diaz, 
who  was  at  that  time  besieging  Mexico  City,  then  effected 
a secret  combination  with  the  church  to  overthrow  the 
Liberal  government.  According  to  one  writer,  he  inten- 
tionally delayed  taking  the  metropolis  and  asked  General 
Escobedo  for  two  of  his  strongest  divisions,  which  he 
planned  to  turn  against  Juarez.  But  Juarez  received 
word  of  the  plot  in  time  and  instructed  General  Esco- 
bedo to  send  two  of  his  strongest  divisions  under  com- 
mand of  General  Corona  and  General  Regules,  respec- 
tively, with  orders  to  destroy  the  treachery  of  Diaz, 
should  it  arise.  When  the  reinforcements  arrived  Diaz 
tried  to  get  them  entirely  in  his  power  by  appointing 
new  officers,  but  Corona  and  Regules  stood  firm,  and 
Diaz,  realizing  that  he  had  been  anticipated,  abandoned 
his  plot. 

Immediately  after  the  coming  of  peace  Juarez  ap- 
pointed Diaz  commander  of  that  part  of  the  army  sta- 
tioned in  Oaxaca  and  Diaz  used  the  power  thus  secured 
to  control  the  state  elections  and  impose  himself  as 
governor.  After  his  defeat  for  the  presidency  Diaz 
started  a revolution,  known  as  “La  Ciudadela,”  The 
Citadel,  but  the  uprising  was  crushed  in  one  decisive 
meeting  with  the  government  troops.  Six  weeks  later 
Diaz  started  a second  revolution,  calling  his  friends  to 
arms  under  what  is  known  as  the  “Plan  de  Noria,”  a 
platform,  in  reality,  in  which  the  leading  demand  was  for 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


307 


an  amendment  to  the  constitution  absolutely  forbidding 
the  re-election  of  either  president  or  governors.  This 
rebellion  also  met  with  ignominious  defeat  on  the  bat- 
tlefield at  the  hands  of  the  government  forces,  and  when 
Juarez  died  in  July,  1872,  Diaz  was  a fugitive  from 
justice.  During  one  of  these  little  rebellions  of  the 
present  superman  Juarez  is  said  to  have  captured  and 
brought  Diaz  before  him  and  told  him  that  he  deserved 
to  be  shot  like  a rebel,  but  that  the  country  would  take 
into  consideration  his  services  rendered  during  the  War 
of  Intervention. 

After  the  death  of  Juarez,  Diaz  prosecuted  a success- 
ful revolution,  but  only  after  four  years  more  of  plot- 
ting and  rebelling.  The  people  of  the  country  were 
overwhelmingly  against  him,  but  he  found  one  very  defi- 
nite interest  upon  which  to  play.  That,  far  from  being 
a peaceful  and  legitimate  interest,  was  a military  inter- 
est, the  interest  of  the  chiefs  of  the  army  and  of  those 
who  had  made  their  living  by  killing  and  plundering. 
The  government  of  Juarez  and  the  government  of 
Lerdo  both  carried  out,  after  peace  came,  a sweeping 
anti-militarist  policy.  They  announced  their  intention 
of  reducing  the  army  and  proceeded  to  reduce  the  army. 
Thereupon  the  chiefs  thereof,  seeing  their  glory  depart- 
ing from  them,  became  fertile  ground  for  the  seeds  of 
rebellion  which  Diaz  was  strewing  broadcast.  Diaz 
gave  these  army  chiefs  to  understand  that  under  him 
they  would  not  be  shorn  of  their  military  splendor,  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  they  would  be  raised  to  posi- 
tions of  higher  power. 

Lerdo  issued  an  amnesty  to  all  revolutionists  and  Diaz 
was  safe  from  prosecution  as  a rebel.  But  instead  of 
employing  the  freedom  thus  given  to  useful  and  honor- 


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able  pursuits,  he  used  it  to  facilitate  his  plotting  until, 
in  January,  1876,  he  started  his  third  revolution,  issuing 
his  “Plan  de  Tuxtepec,”  in  which  he  again  demanded 
a change  prohibiting  the  re-election  of  the  president. 

For  nearly  a year  Diaz  prosecuted  his  third  revolu- 
tion, during  that  time  issuing  another  manifesto,  the 
“Plan  de  Palo  Blanco,”  which  gave  his  operations  the 
aspect  of  still  another  and  a fourth  revolution.  It  was 
under  this  plan  that  the  rebel  leader  finally  gained  a deci- 
sive victory  over  government  troops  and  soon  after- 
wards led  his  army  into  the  capital  and  declared  himself 
provisional  president.  A few  days  later  he  held  a farci- 
cal election,  in  which  he  placed  soldiers  in  possession  of 
the  polls  and  permitted  neither  rival  candidates  to  appear 
nor  opposition  votes  to  be  cast. 

Thus  in  1876,  more  than  a generation  ago,  Porfirio 
Diaz  came  to  the  head  of  the  Mexican  state  a rebel  in 
arms.  Pie  broke  the  peace  of  Mexico  to  begin  with,  and 
he  has  continued  to  break  the  peace  by  periodical  and 
wholesale  butcheries  of  his  people.  General  Porfirio 
Diaz,  the  “greatest  living  peace-maker,”  “prince  of 
peace!”  It  is  a sacrilege! 

That  the  Mexican  dictator  has  not  fallen  a victim  to 
the  physical  debaucheries  that  sometimes  over-tempt  men 
suddenly  risen  to  great  power  is  undoubtedly  true.  But 
what  of  it?  Certainly  no  one  will  argue  that,  since  a 
man  keeps  clean  physically,  he  has  a right  to  misgovern 
a country  and  assassinate  a people.  Personal  cleanli- 
ness, physical  temperance  and  marital  virtue  do  not  in 
the  least  determine  the  standing  a man  deserves  as  a 
statesman. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  allegations  upon  which 
the  good  fame  of  General  Diaz  is  based  have  no  founda- 
tion in  fact.  Moreover,  none  of  his  flatterers  have  so 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


309 


far  discovered  in  him  any  claims  for  greatness  any  bet- 
ter substantiated  than  those  mentioned. 

Diaz  has  some  personal  abilities,  such  as  a genius  for 
organization,  keen  judgment  of  human  nature,  and  indus- 
try, but  these  do  not  determine  that  his  public  acts  shall 
be  beneficent.  Like  the  virtues  the  devout  Methodist 
kdy  attributed  to  the  Devil,  industry  and  persistence, 
they  merely  render  him  more  efficient  in  what  he  does. 
If  he  chooses  to  do  good,  they  become  virtues ; if  he 
chooses  to  do  ill,  they  may  very  properly  be  incorporated 
with  his  vices. 

The  flatterers  of  Porfirio  Diaz  are  wont  to  speak  in 
generalities,  for  otherwise  they  would  come  to  grief. 
On  the  other  hand,  a large  book  could  be  written  re- 
counting his  evil  deeds  and  contemptible  traits.  In- 
gratitude is  one  of  the  charges  least  worthy  of  mention 
that  are  made  against  him.  Benito  Juarez  made  the 
career  of  Porfirio  Diaz.  Every  promotion  which  Diaz 
received  was  given  him  by  the  hands  of  Juarez.  Never- 
theless, Diaz  turned  against  his  country  and  his  friend, 
started  rebellion  after  rebellion  and  made  the  last  days 
of  the  great  patriot  turbulent  and  unhappy. 

Yet,  to  portray  the  other  side,  Diaz  has  shown  grati- 
tude to  some  of  his  friends,  and  in  doing  so  he  has  at 
the  same  time  exhibited  his  utter  disregard  for  the  pub- 
lic welfare.  An  Indian  named  Cahuantzi,  illiterate  but 
rich,  was  Diaz’s  friend  when  the  latter  was  in  rebellion 
against  Juarez  and  Lerdo.  Cahuantzi  furnished  the 
rebel  with  horses  and  money  and  when  Diaz  captured 
the  supreme  power  he  did  not  forget.  He  made  Cahu- 
antzi governor  of  Tlaxcala  and  sent  him  a teacher  that 
he  might  learn  to  sign  his  name  to  documents  of  state. 
He  retained  Cahuantzi  as  governor  of  the  state  of 
Tlaxcala,  giving  him  free  rein  to  rob  and  plunder  at 


310 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


will.  He  kept  Cahuantzi  there  for  thirty-four  years, 
down  to  this  day. 

A similar  ease  was  that  of  Manuel  Gonzalez,  a com- 
padre  who  aided  the  Diaz  rebellions  and  whom  Diaz 
substituted  for  himself  in  the  presidential  chair  from 
1880  to  1884.  After  Gonzalez  had  served  his  purpose  in 
the  federal  government  Don  Porfirio  presented  him  with 
the  state  government  of  Guanajuato,  where  he  reigned 
until  his  death.  Gonzalez  was  wont  to  boast  that  the 
government  had  killed  all  the  bandits  in  Guanajuato 
but  himself,  that  he  was  the  only  bandit  tolerated  in  that 
state. 

The  flatterers  of  Diaz  tell  of  his  intellectual  ability, 
but  of  his  culture  they  dare  say  nothing.  The  question 
as  to  whether  or  not  he  is  a cultivated  man  would  seem 
important  inasmuch  as  it  would  determine  somewhat 
the  distribution  of  culture  among  the  people  whom  he 
controls  so  absolutely.  Diaz  is  intelligent,  but  his  in- 
telligence may  very  well  be  denominated  a criminal  in- 
telligence— such  as  is  needed  at  the  head  of  a great  free- 
booter corporation  or  an  organization  such  as  Tammany 
Hall.  In  devising  ways  and  means  to  strengthen  his 
personal  power  Diaz’s  intelligence  has  risen  even  to 
genius,  but  of  refinement  and  culture  he  possesses  lit- 
tle or  none.  Despite  the  necessity  of  his  meeting  for- 
eigners almost  daily  he  has  never  learned  English  nor 
any  other  foreign  language.  He  never  reads  anything 
but  press  clippings  and  books  about  himself  and  he  never 
studies  anything  but  the  art  of  keeping  himself  in  power. 
He  is  interested  in  neither  music,  art,  literature  nor  the 
drama  and  the  encouragement  he  gives  to  these  things  is 
negligible.  Mexico’s  drama  is  imported  from  Spain, 
Italy  and  France.  Her  literature  is  imported  from 
France  and  Spain.  Her  art  and  music  are  likewise  im- 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


311 


ported.  Within  a century  past  art  flourished  in  Mex- 
ico, but  now  her  art  is  decadent — choked  like  her  bud- 
ding literature,  by  the  thorns  of  political  tyranny. 

General  education  in  Mexico  is  appallingly  absent. 
The  flatterers  of  Diaz  tell  of  the  schools  that  he  has  es- 
tablished, but  the  investigator  fails  to  find  these  schools. 
They  are  mostly  on  paper.  There  is  practically  no  such 
thing  as  country  schools  in  Mexico,  while  towns  of 
many  hundreds  of  inhabitants  often  have  no  school 
whatsoever.  Nominally  there  are  schools  in  such  towns, 
but  actually  there  are  none  because  the  governors  of  the 
various  states  prefer  to  keep  the  expense  money  for 
themselves.  While  traveling  in  the  rural  districts  of  the 
state  of  Mexico,  for  example,  I learned  that  scores  of 
schools  in  small  towns  had  been  closed  for  three  years 
because  the  governor,  General  Fernando  Gonzalez,  had 
withheld  the  money,  explaining  to  the  local  authorities 
that  he  needed  it  for  other  purposes.  The  fact  that 
there  is  no  adequate  public  school  system  in  Mexico  is 
attested  by  the  most  recent  official  census  (1900),  which 
goes  to  show  that  but  16  per  cent  of  the  population  are 
able  to  read  and  write.  Compare  this  with  Japan,  an 
over-populated  country  where  the  people  are  very  poor 
and  where  the  opportunities  for  education  seemingly 
ought  not  to  be  so  good.  Ninety-eight  per  cent  of 
Japanese  men  and  93  per  cent  of  -Japanese  women  are 
able  to  read  and  write.  The  sort  of  educational  ideals 
held  by  President  Diaz  is  shown  in  the  schools  that  are 
running,  where  a most  important  item  in  the  curricu- 
lum is  military  study  and  training! 

Is  Diaz  humane?  The  question  is  almost  superfluous, 
inasmuch  as  few  of  his  admirers  credit  him  with  this 
trait.  All  admit  that  he  has  been  severe  and  harsh,  even 
brutal,  in  his  treatment  of  his  enemies,  while  some  of 


312 


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them  even  relate  deeds  of  the  most  bloodthirsty  cru- 
elty— relate  them  with  gusto,  condemning  not  at  all, 
but  treating  the  incidents  as  if  they  were  merely  some 
excusable  eccentricities  of  genius!  The  wholesale  kill- 
ings carried  out  by  the  orders  of  Diaz,  the  torture  per- 
petrated in  his  prisons,  the  slavery  of  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  his  people,  the  heart-breaking  poverty  which 
he  sees  every  time  he  leaves  his  palace,  and  which  he 
could  greatly  ameliorate  if  he  wished,  are  of  themselves 
sufficient  proof  of  his  inhumanity. 

Cruelty  was  undoubtedly  a part  of  his  inheritance, 
for  his  father,  a horse-breaker  by  trade,  was  noted  for 
it.  Horses  which  did  not  yield  readily  Chepe  Diaz,  the 
father,  killed,  and  others  he  chastised  with  a whip 
tipped  with  a steel  star,  which  he  landed  on  the  belly, 
the  most  tender  part  of  the  poor  brute.  For  this  rea- 
son the  people  of  Oaxaca,  the  birthplace  of  Diaz,  pat- 
ronized the  father  but  little,  and  he  was  poor.  That  in- 
herited trait  showed  itself  in  Porfirio  at  an  extremely 
tender  age,  for  while  only  a child  Porfirio,  becoming 
angry  at  his  brother  over  a trivial  matter,  filled  his 
brother’s  nostrils  with  gunpowder  while  he  was  asleep 
and  touched  a match  to  it.  From  that  time  Felix  was 
known  as  “Chato”  (Pug-nose)  Diaz.  “For  Porfirio 
Diaz” — in  the  words  of  Gutierrez  De  Lara,  “the  people 
of  Mexico  have  been  the  horse.” 

As  a military  commander  Diaz  was  noted  for  his 
cruelty  to  his  own  soldiers  and  to  any  portion  of  the 
enemy  that  happened  to  fall  into  his  hands.  Several 
Mexican  writers  mention  unwarranted  acts  of  severity 
and  executions  of  subordinates  ordered  in  the  heat  of 
passion.  Revenge  is  a twin  brother  of  cruelty  and  Diaz 
was  revengeful.  Terrible  was  the  revenge  visited  by 
the  child  upon  his  sleeping  brother  and  terrible  was  the 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


313 


revenge  visited  upon  the  town  where  his  brother  many 
years  later  met  a tragic  death. 

Accounts  of  the  incident  differ,  but  all  authorities 
agree  that  the  massacre  at  Juchitan,  Oaxaca,  was  done 
in  cold  blood,  indiscriminately  and  out  of  revenge.  On 
becoming  president,  Diaz  installed  his  brother  “Chato” 
as  governor  of  Oaxaca.  “Chato”  was  a drunkard  and 
a libertine  and  he  was  killed  while  over-riding  the  per- 
sonal liberties  of  the  people  of  the  town  of  Juchitan. 
Many  weeks  later,  long  after  the  uprising  of  a day  had 
passed,  President  Diaz  sent  troops  to  Juchitan  who, 
according  to  one  writer,  suddenly  appeared  one  evening 
in  the  public  square  where  the  people  had  gathered  to 
listen  to  the  music  of  a band,  and  poured  volley  after 
volley  into  the  crowd,  continuing  to  fire  until  all  the 
people  left  in  the  square  were  dead  or  dying  on  the 
ground. 

Such  killings  have  been  a recognized  policy  of  the 
Diaz  rule.  The  Rio  Blanco  massacre,  the  details  of 
which  were  set  forth  in  a previous  chapter,  took  place 
after  the  town  was  entirely  quiet.  The  executions  in 
Cananea  were  carried  out  with  little  discrimination  and 
after  the  alleged  disturbance  of  the  strikers  was  over. 
The  summary  executions  at  Velardena  in  the  Spring 
of  1909  all  took  place  after  the  so-called  riot  was  over. 
And  other  instances  could  be  given.  It  may  be  sug- 
gested that  in  some  of  these  cases  not  Diaz,  but  an  un- 
derling, was  responsible.  But  it  is  well  known  that 
Diaz  usually  gave  the  orders  for  distributing  indis- 
criminate death.  That  he  approves  of  such  a policy  as 
a policy  is  shown  by  his  remarkable  toast  to  General 
Bernardo  Reyes,  after  the  Monterey  massacre  in  1903. 
when  he  said : “Senor  General,  that  is  the  way  to  gov- 
ern.” 


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BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


The  inhuman  methods  used  by  Diaz  to  exterminate 
the  Yaqui  Indians  have  been  exploited  in  a previous 
chapter.  One  of  his  famous  Yaqui  orders  which,  how- 
ever, I did  not  mention,  not  only  exhibits  his  rude  and 
uncultured  ideas  of  justice,  but  it  paints  his  cruelty  as 
most  diabolical.  Several  years  ago,  after  various  em- 
ployers of  labor  of  the  state  of  Sonora  had  protested 
against  the  wholesale  deportation  of  the  Yaquis  be- 
cause they  needed  the  Yaquis  as  farm  and  mine  laborers, 
Diaz,  in  order  to  pacify  the  aforesaid  employers,  mod- 
ified his  deportation  decree  to  read  substantially  as  fol- 
lows: “No  more  Yaquis  are  to  be  deported  except  in 
case  of  ofiFenses  being  committed  by  Yaquis.  For  every 
offense  hereafter  committed  by  any  Yaqui  500  Yaquis 
are  to  be  rounded  up  and  deported  to  Yucatan.” 

This  decree  is  attested  to  by  no  less  a personage  than 
Francisco  I.  Madero,  the  distinguished  citizen  of  the 
state  of  Coahuila,  who  dared  oppose  Diaz  in  the  presi- 
dential campaign  of  1910.  The  decree  was  carried  out, 
or  at  least  the  stream  of  Yaqui  exiles  kept  on.  Cruel 
and  revengeful  is  the  Mexican  president  and  bitterly 
has  his  nation  suffered  as  a result  of  it. 

Is  Diaz  a brave  man?  In  some  quarters  it  has  been 
taken  for  granted  that  he  is  a man  of  courage,  inas- 
much as  he  made  a success  as  a soldier.  But  there  are 
many  distinguished  Mexicans  who,  having  watched  his 
career,  assert  that  he  is  not  only  not  brave,  but  that 
he  is  a shrinking,  cringing  coward.  And  they  point  to 
numerous  accepted  facts  to  support  their  assertion. 
When  the  news  of  the  uprising  at  Las  Vacas  reached 
him  in  the  last  days  of  June,  1908,  Diaz  was  suddenly 
taken  sick  and  for  five  days  he  staid  in  his  bed.  In  high 
government  circles  it  was  whispered  about — and  the 
fact  is  alleged  to  have  come  from  one  of  his  physicians 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


315 


— -that  he  was  suffering  from  a common  malady  which 
comes  upon  one  overpowered  by  acute  and  panicky  fear. 

The  fact  that  when  Diaz  seized  the  power  he  carefully 
excluded  from  any  part  in  the  government  each  and 
every  one  of  the  most  popular  and  able  Mexicans  of  the 
day  is  attributed  to  fear.  The  fact  that  he  maintains  a 
large  army  which  he  distributes  in  every  quarter  of  the 
country,  and  a huge  secret  police  system  armed  with 
extraordinary  power  to  kill  on  suspicion,  the  terrible 
way  in  which  he  gets  rid  of  his  enemies,  his  bloody 
massacres  themselves,  even  his  muzzling  of  the  press, 
are  all  attributed  to  arrant  cowardice.  In  his  book 
“Diaz,  Czar  of  Mexico,”  Carlo  de  Fornaro  voices  this 
belief  in  the  cowardice  of  Diaz  and  reasons  quite  ef- 
fectively upon  it.  He  says: 

“Like  all  people  quick  to  anger  he  (Diaz)  is  not  really  fear- 
less, for  as  the  jungle  song  says,  ‘Anger  is  the  egg  of  fear.' 
Fearful  and  therefore  ever  vigilant,  he  was  saved  from  destruc- 
tion by  this  alertness,  as  the  hare  is  preserved  from  capture  by 
his  long  ears.  He  mistook  cruelty  for  strength  of  character 
and  consequently  was  ever  ready  to  terrorize  for  fear  of  being 
thought  weak.  As  a result  of  the  outrageous  nickel  law  and 
the  payment  of  the  famous  English  debt  in  the  period  of 
Gonzalez,  there  happened  a mutiny.  ‘Knife  them  all,’  suggested 
Porfirio  Diaz  to  Gonzalez.  But  Gonzalez  was  not  afraid. 

“Last  year,  on  the  16th  of  September,  as  the  Mexican  students 
desired  to  parade  on  the  streets  of  the  capital,  they  sent  their 
representative,  a Mr.  Olea,  to  beg  the  President’s  permission. 
Porfirio  Diaz  answered:  ‘Yes,  but  beware,  for  the  Mexicans 

have  revolutionary  tendencies  lurking  in  their  blood.’  Think  of 
three  score  of  youngsters  parading  unarmed  being  a menace  to 
the  republic,  with  5,000  soldiers,  rurales  and  policemen  in  the 
capital ! 

“It  is  only  by  admitting  this  shameful  well-hidden  stigma  on 
the  apparently  brave  front  of  this  man  that  we  can  logically 
explain  such  despicable  and  infamous  acts  as  the  massacres 
of  Veracruz  and  Orizaba.  He  was  then  panic-stricken,  like  a 


316 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


wanderer,  who  shoots  wildly  at  the  fleeing  phantoms  of  the 
night;  he  was  so  terrorized  that  the  only  means  of  relieving  his 
blue  funk  was  to  terrorize  in  return.” 

Hand  in  hand  with  cruelty  and  cowardice  often 
travels  hypocrisy  and  of  the  three  Diaz  is  not  the  least 
endowed  with  hypocrisy.  Constantly  is  he  foisting  new 
shams  and  deceptions  and  farces  upon  the  public.  His 
election  farces  and  his  periodical  pretense  of  wishing 
to  retire  from  the  presidency  and  the  reluctantly  yield- 
ing to  a universal  demand  on  the  part  of  his  people  have 
already  been  referred  to.  Diaz’s  rule  began  in  hypocrisy, 
for  he  went  into  office  on  a platform  which  he  had  no  no- 
tion of  carrying  out.  He  pretended  to  consider  the  doc- 
trine of  non-re-election  of  president  and  governors  of 
enough  importance  to  warrant  turning  the  nation  over  in 
a revolution,  yet  as  soon  as  he  had  entrenched  himself  in 
power  he  proceeded  to  re-elect  himself  as  well  as  his 
governors  on  to  the  end  of  time. 

When  Elihu  Root  went  in  to  Mexico  to  see  Diaz  and 
to  arrange  some  matters  in  regard  to  Magdalena  Bay 
Diaz  was  desirous  of  showing  Root  that  the  Mexican 
people  were  not  as  poverty-stricken  as  they  had  been 
painted.  He  therefore,  through  his  Department  of  the 
Interior,  distributed  the  day  before  Root’s  arrival  in 
the  capital,  5,000  pairs  of  new  pantaloons  among  that 
class  of  workmen  who  were  habitually  most  prominently 
on  the  streets.  In  spite  of  orders  that  the  pants  were 
to  be  worn,  the  majority  of  them  were  promptly  ex- 
changed for  food,  and  so  Mr.  Root  was  probably  not 
very  badly  fooled.  The  incident  merely  goes  to  show 
to  what  extents  the  petty  hypocrisy  of  the  Mexican  ruler 
sometimes  goes. 

Diaz  is  the  head  of  the  Masons  in  Mexico,  yet  he 
nominates  every  new  bishop  and  archbishop  the  country 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


317 


gets.  Church  marriages  are  not  recognized  as  legal,  yet 
Diaz  has  favored  the  church  so  far  as  to  refuse  to 
enact  a divorce  law,  so  that  today  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  divorce  or  re-marriage  during  the  life  of  both  parties 
in  Mexico.  Constantly  is  Diaz  trying  to  fool  the  peo- 
ple as  to  his  own  motives.  He  brought  about  the  merger 
under  national  control  of  the  two  leading  railway  sys- 
tems of  the  country,  ostensibly  to  put  the  railways  where 
the  government  can  use  them  best  in  time  of  war,  but 
actually  in  order  to  give  his  friends  an  opportunity  to 
make  millions  in  the  juggling  of  securities.  Deceits  of 
this  class  could  be  enumerated  ad  infinitum. 

One  of  the  most  notable  hypocritical  antics  of  Diaz 
is  his  pretended  concurrence  in  the  overwhelmingly  pop- 
ular idolatry  of  the  patriot  Juarez.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  when  Juarez  died  Diaz  was  in  revolution 
against  him  and  that  therefore  if  it  is  conceded  that 
Juarez  was  a great  statesman  it  must  be  admitted  that 
Diaz  was  wrong  in  rebelling.  Diaz  undoubtedly  recog- 
nized this  fact  and  some  ten  years  ago  he  is  said  to  have 
aided  secretly  the  publication  and  circulation  of  a book 
which  attempted,  by  new  and  cleverly  written  inter- 
pretations of  the  acts  of  Juarez,  to  make  out  the  father 
of  the  constitution  a great  blunderer  instead  of  a great 
statesman.  This  failed  to  turn  the  tide  against  Juarez, 
however,  and  Diaz  fell  in  with  the  tide  until  nowadays 
we  see  him  every  year,  on  the  occasion  of  the  birthday 
of  Juarez,  delivering  a eulogistic  speech  over  the  tomb 
of  the  man  against  whom  he  rebelled.  More  than  this, 
during  each  speech  Diaz  sheds  tears — rains  tears — and 
is  wont  to  refer  to  Juarez  as  “my  great  teacher!” 

The  ability  to  shed  tears  freely  and  on  the  slightest 
provocation  has,  indeed,  been  named  by  Diaz’s  enemies 
as  his  greatest  asset  as  a statesman.  When  a distin- 


318 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


guished  visitor  praises  Diaz  or  his  work  Diaz  cries — 
and  the  visitor  is  touched  and  drawn  toward  him.  When 
the  “Circulo  de  Amigos  de  General  Diaz”  pays  its  for- 
mal call  to  tell  its  creator  that  the  country  once  more 
demands  his  re-election  he  weeps — and  the  foreign  press 
remarks  upon  how  that  man  docs  love  his  country. 
Once  a year,  on  his  birthday,  the  president  of  Mexico 
goes  down  into  the  street  and  shakes  hands  with  his 
people.  The  reception  takes  place  in  front  of  the  na- 
tional palace  and  all  the  while  the  tears  are  raining 
down  his  cheeks — and  the  soft-hearted  people  say  to 
themselves:  “Poor  old  man,  he’s  had  his  troubles.  Let 
him  end  his  life  in  peace.” 

Diaz  has  always  been  able  to  cry.  While  striving 
against  the  Lerdist  government  in  1876,  just  before  his 
day  of  success  came,  he  was  beaten  in  the  battle  of 
Icamole.  He  thought  it  meant  an  end  of  his  hopes  and 
he  cried  like  a baby,  while  his  subordinate  officers  looked 
on  in  shame.  This  gained  him  the  nickname  of  “The 
weeper  of  Icamole,”  which  still  sticks  to  him  among  his 
enemies.  In  his  memoirs  Lerdo  calls  Diaz  “The  Man 
Who  Weeps.” 

An  oft-related  incident  which  shows  the  shallowness 
of  the  feeling  which  accompanies  the  Diaz  tears  is  told 
by  Fornaro  as  follows : 

“When  Captain  Clodomoro  Cota  was  sentenced  by  the  mili- 
tary tribunal  to  be  shot,  his  father  sought  the  President,  and  on 
his  knees,  weeping,  begged  him  to  pardon  his  son.  Porfirio  Diaz 
also  was  weeping,  but,  lifting  the  despairing  man,  uttered  this 
ambiguous  phrase:  ‘Have  courage  and  faith  in  justice.’  The 

father  left,  consoled,  believing  that  his  petition  had  been 
answered.  But  on  the  following  morning  his  son  was  shot. 
The  tears  of  Porfirio  Diaz  are  crocodile  tears.” 

It  is  said  that  Diaz  does  not  dissipate.  At  least  he 
drinks  deep  and  drunkenly  of  the  wine  of  adulation. 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


319 


Both  vanity  and  lack  of  refinement  and  taste  are  shown 
by  the  very  coarseness  and  ridiculousness  of  the  praise 
for  which  he  pays  and  in  which  he  revels. 

Diaz  is  not  noted  for  avarice,  which  is  not  surprising, 
inasmuch  as  the  power  that  he  wields  by  reason  of  the 
army  and  the  rest  of  his  machine  is  far  greater  than  any 
power  that  money  could  buy  in  Mexico.  To  Porfirio 
Diaz  money  and  other  cashable  goods  are  but  a pawn 
in  the  game,  and  he  uses  them  to  buy  the  support  of 
the  greedy.  Yet  his  enemies  declare  that  he  is  the  rich- 
est man  in  Mexico.  He  keeps  his  financial  affairs  so 
well  hidden  that  few  can  guess  how  large  a fortune  he 
has.  It  is  known  that  he  has  large  holdings  under 
aliases  and  in  the  names  of  dummies  and  that  the  vari- 
ous members  of  his  family  are  all  wealthy.  But  why 
should  Porfirio  Diaz  care  for  mere  money,  when  all 
Mexico  is  his — his  with  no  strings  upon  it  except  the 
strings  of  foreign  capital? 

The  picture  sometimes  drawn  of  the  love  match  of 
Don  Porfirio  and  Carmelita  Romero  Rubio  de  Diaz, 
while  pretty,  is  not  true ; the  truth  is  not  at  all  flattering 
to  the  personal  virtues  of  Diaz.  The  facts  are  that  lit- 
tle Carmen  was  forced  to  marry  Diaz  for  purposes  of 
state.  Her  father,  Romero  Rubio,  had  held  a high  po- 
sition in  the  Lerdist  government  and  had  a strong  per- 
sonal following;  her  god-father  was  Lerdo  de  Tejada 
himself,  while  little  Carmen,  together  with  the  other 
feminine  members  of  the  family,  was  a devout  Catholic. 
By  marrying  the  girl  Diaz  hoped  to  kill  three  birds  with 
one  stone,  to  win  the  support  of  her  father,  to  turn 
aside  the  enmity  of  the  friends  of  Lerdo,  and  to  assure 
to  himself  more  actively  than  ever  the  support  of  the 
church.  He  knew  that  Carmen  not  only  did  not  love 
him,  but  that  she  wanted  to  marry  another  man,  and 


320 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


yet  he  was  a party  to  her  forced  marriage.  The  mar- 
riage did  give  him  the  more  active  support  of  the  church, 
it  won  Don  Romero  Rubio,  but  as  for  Lerdo,  he  was 
obdurate.  In  his  memoirs  Lerdo  prints ' some  letters 
from  the  unhappy  Carmen,  his  god-child,  to  show  how 
her  youth  and  innocence  were  employed  as  merchandise 
in  Diaz’s  mad  barter  for  political  security.  One  of  these 
letters,  which  also  gives  an  interesting  side-light  on  the 
times,  is  as  follows: 

“Mexico  City,  Jan.  1,  1885. 
“Sr.  Lie.  Don  Sebastian  Lerdo  de  Tejada. 

“My  Very  Dear  God-Father: — If  you  continue  to  be  displeased 
with  Papa,  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  persist  in  being 
so  with  me;  you  know  better  than  anyone  that  my  marriage 
with  General  Diaz  was  the  exclusive  work  of  my  parents,  for 
whom,  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  them,  I have  sacrificed  my  heart, 
if  it  can  be  called  a sacrifice  to  have  given  my  hand  to  a man 
who  adores  me  and  to  whom  I respond  only  with  filial  affection. 
To  unite  myself  with  an  enemy  of  yours  has  not  been  to  curse 
you;  on  the  contrary,  I have  desired  to  be  the  dove  that  with  the 
olive  branch  calms  the  political  torments  of  my  country.  I do 
not  fear  that  God  will  punish  me  for  having  taken  this  step, 
as  the  greatest  punishment  will  be  to  have  children  by  a man 
whom  I do  not  love;  nevertheless,  I shall  respect  him  and  be 
faithful  to  him  all  my  life.  You  have  nothing,  God-father,  with 
which  to  reproach  me.  I have  conducted  myself  with  perfect 
correctness  inside  the  social,  moral  and  religious  laws.  Can 
you  blame  the  Archduchess  Marie  of  Austria  for  uniting  herself 
with  Napoleon?  Since  my  marriage  I am  constantly  sur- 
rounded by  a crowd  of  flatterers,  so  much  the  more  contemptible 
since  I do  not  encourage  them.  They  do  not  fail  in  anything 
except  in  falling  down  on  their  knees  and  kissing  my  feet,  as 
happened  with  the  golden  princesses  of  Perrault.  From  the 
deputation  of  beggars  with  whom  I became  acquainted  yesterday 
to  the  minister  who  begged  a peseta  in  order  to  dine,  on  the 
staircase  ascending  or  descending,  all  mix  together  and  trample 
each  other  under  foot,  entreating  for  a salute,  a smile,  a glance. 
The  same  who  in  a time  not  so  very  remote  would  have  refused 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


321 


to  give  me  their  hand  had  they  seen  me  fall  on  the  sidewalk, 
today  crawl  like  reptiles  in  my  path,  and  would  consider  them- 
selves happy  if  the  wheels  of  my  carriage  should  pass  over 
their  unclean  bodies.  The  other  night,  while  expectorating  in  the 
aisle  of  the  theatre,  a general  who  was  at  my  side  interposed 
his  handkerchief,  in  order  that  the  saliva,  each  precious  pearl, 
should  not  fall  on  the  tile  floor.  If  we  had  been  alone,  surely 
the  miserable  creature  would  have  converted  his  mouth  into  a 
cuspidor.  This  is  not  the  exquisite  flattery  of  educated  folk ; 
it  is  the  brutal  servility  of  the  rabble  in  its  animal  and  repul- 
sive form,  in  that  of  a slave.  The  p^ets,  the  minor  poets  and 
the  poetasters  each  martyr  me  after  his  own  fashion ; it  is  a 
waterspout  of  ink  fit  to  blacken  the  ocean  itself.  This  calamity 
irritates  my  nerves  to  such  an  extent  that  at  times  I have 
attacks  of  hysteria.  Horrible,  isn’t  it,  dear  God-father?  And 
I say  nothing  to  you  of  the  paragraphs  and  articles  published 
by  the  press  that  Papa  has  hired.  Those  who  do  not  call  me 
an  angel  say  that  I am  a cherub ; others  raise  me  to  the  standard 
of  a goddess;  others  place  me  in  the  firmament  as  a star,  and 
still  others  put  me  down  in  botany,  classifying  me  among  the 
lilies,  the  marguerites  and  the  jasmin.  At  times  I myself  do  not 
know  whether  I am  an  angel,  a cherub,  a goddess,  a star,  a lily, 
a marguerite,  a jasmin,  or  a woman.  Dios!  Whom  am  I that 
I am  deified  and  enveloped  in  this  cloud  of  fetid  incense?  Ah, 
my  God-father,  I am  very  unfortunate,  and  I hope  that  you  will 
not  deny  me  your  pardon  and  your  advice. 

“Carmen.” 

Is  Diaz  patriotic?  Has  he  the  welfare  of  Mexico 
at  heart?  The  flatterers  of  Diaz  swear  by  his  patriot- 
ism, but  the  facts  demand  a negative  answer.  Diaz 
helped  depose  the  foreign  prince,  but  immediately  after- 
wards he  plunged  a peaceful  country  into  war  to  feed 
his  own  ambition.  Perhaps  it  will  be  said  that  Diaz 
imagined  that  he  could  order  the  destinies  of  Mexico 
more  for  the  benefit  of  Mexico  than  could  anyone  else. 
Doubtless,  but  why  has  he  not  given  his  country  prog- 
ress? Is  it  possible  that  he  believes  that  autocracy  is 
better  for  a people  than  democracy?  Is  it  possible  that 


322 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


he  considers  illiteracy  a condition  of  the  greatest  possi- 
ble happiness  for  a people?  Can  he  believe  that  a state 
of  chronic  starvation  contributes  to  the  welfare  of  a 
nation?  He  is  an  old  man — eighty  years  old.  Why 
does  he  not  make  some  provision  against  political  chaos 
after  his  death?  Is  it  possible  that  he  believes  it  to  be 
best  for  his  people  never  to  attempt  to  govern  them- 
selves, and  for  this  reason  is  wrecking  his  nation  so  as 
to  prepare  it  for  easy  possession  by  foreigners? 

It  is  impossible  to  believe  these  things  of  Diaz.  It  is 
eminently  more  reasonable  to  judge  that  whatever  de- 
sire for  the  welfare  of  his  country  he  possesses  is  over- 
shadowed, wiped  off  the  slate,  by  a personal  ambition  to 
maintain  his  rule  for  life. 

This,  in  my  judgment,  is  a key  to  the  character  and 
the  public  acts  of  Porfirio  Diaz — to  stay  there — to  stay 
there! 

How  will  this  move  affect  the  security  of  my  posi- 
tion? I believe  this  question  has  been  the  one  test  for 
the  acts  of  Porfirio  Diaz  in  all  those  thirty-four  years. 
This  question  has  always  been  before  him.  With  it  he 
has  eaten,  drank,  slept.  With  it  before  him  he  was 
married.  With  it  he  built  a machine,  enriched  his  friends 
and  disposed  of  his  enemies,  buying  some  and  killing 
others;  with  it  he  has  flattered  and  gifted  the  foreigner, 
favored  the  church,  kept  temperance  in  his  body  and 
learned  a martial  carriage;  with  it  he  set  one  friend 
against  another,  fostered  prejudice  between  his  people 
and  other  peoples,  paid  the  printer,  cried  in  the  sight 
of  the  multitude  when  there  was  no  sorrow  in  his  soul 
and — wrecked  his  country! 

Upon  what  thread  hangs  the  good  fame  of  Porfirio 
Diaz  with  Americans?  Upon  that  one  fact,  that  he  has 
wrecked  his  country — and  prepared  it  for  easy  posses- 


DIAZ  HIMSELF 


323 


sion  by  foreigners.  Porfirio  Diaz  is  giving  to  Ameri- 
cans the  lands  of  Mexico ; the  people  he  is  permitting 
them  to  enslave;  therefore  he  is  the  greatest  living 
statesman,  hero  of  the  Americans,  the  maker  of  Mexico ! 
A wonderful  man,  that  he  is  intelligent  and  far-seeing 
enough  to  appreciate  the  fact  that,  of  all  nations,  the 
American  is  the  only  one  with  virtue  and  ability  enough 
to  lift  Mexico  out  of  its  Slough  of  Despond ! As  for 
the  Mexican,  let  him  die.  He  is  only  fit  to  feed  the 
grist  mill  of  American  capital,  anyhow ! 


CHAPTER  XVII 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 

Since,  in  the  last  analysis,  all  apologies  for  the  Diaz 
system  of  economic  slavery  and  political  autocracy  have 
their  roots  in  assertions  of  ethnological  inferiority  on 
the  part  of  the  Mexican  people,  it  would  seem  wise  to 
end  this  book  with  an  examination  of  the  character  of 
Mexicans  and  a discussion  of  the  arguments  upon  which 
Americans  are  wont  to  defend  a system  in  Mexico  such 
as  they  would  not  for  a moment  excuse  in  any  other 
country. 

Every  defense  of  Diaz  is  an  attack  upon  the  Mexican 
people.  It  must  be  so,  since  there  is  no  other  conceiv- 
able defense  of  despotism  except  that  the  people  are 
so  weak  or  so  wicked  that  they  cannot  be  trusted  to  take 
care  of  themselves. 

The  gist  of  the  defense  is  that  the  Mexican  must  be 
ruled  from  above  because  he  “is  not  fit  for  democracy,” 
that  he  must  be  enslaved  for  the  sake  of  “progress,” 
since  he  would  do  nothing  for  himself  or  the  world  were 
he  not  compelled  to  do  it  through  fear  of  the  whip  or 
acute  starvation,  that  he  must  be  enslaved  because  he 
knows  nothing  better  than  slavery  and  that  he  is  happy 
in  slavery,  anyhow.  All  of  which,  in  the  end,  resolve 
themselves  into  the  simple  proposition  that  because  he 
is  down  he  ought  to  be  kept  down.  Incurable  laziness, 
childish  superstition,  wanton  improvidence,  constitu- 
tional stupidity,  immovable  conservatism,  impenetrable 
ignorance,  an  uncontrollable  propensity  for  theft, 
drunkenness  and  cowardice  are  some  of  the  vices  at- 


324 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


325 


tributed  to  the  Mexican  people  by  those  same  persons 
who  declare  their  ruler  to  be  the  wisest  and  most  beat- 
ific on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Laziness,  in  the  estimation  of  the  American  friends 
of  Diaz,  is  the  cardinal  vice  of  the  Mexican.  Laziness 
has  always  been  a cardinal  vice  in  the  eyes  of  the  grind- 
ers of  the  poor.  American  planters  actually  expect  the 
Mexican  to  work  himself  to  death  for  the  love  of  it! 
Or  is  it  for  the  love  of  his  master  that  he  expects  him 
to  work?  Or  for  the  dignity  of  labor? 

But  the  Mexican  does  not  appreciate  such  things. 
And,  failing  to  receive  anything  more  tangible  for  his 
work,  he  “soldiers”  on  the  job.  Wherefore  he  is  not 
only  lazy,  but  stupid ! Wherefore,  it  is  right  and  proper 
that  he  should  be  driven  to  the  field  with  clubs,  that  he 
should  be  hunted  down,  forced  into  enganchado  gangs, 
locked  up  at  night,  and  starved. 

It  may  be  information  to  some  persons  to  tell  them 
that  Mexicans  have  been  known  to  work  willingly  and 
effectively  when  they  saw  anything  to  work  for.  Tens 
of  thousands  of  Mexicans  have  displaced  Americans  and 
Japanese  on  the  railroads  and  in  the  fields  of  the  Amer- 
ican Southwest.  As  high  an  authority  as  E.  H.  Harri- 
man  said,  in  an  interview  published  in  the  Los  Angeles 
Times  in  March,  1909:  “We  have  had  a good  deal  of 
experience  with  the  Mexican,  and  we  have  found  that 
after  he  is  fed  up  and  gets  his  strength  he  makes  a very 
good  worker.” 

Note  that.  “After  he  is  fed  up  and  gets  his  strength.” 
Which  is  saying,  in  effect,  that  the  employers  of  Mex- 
ican labor,  many  of  whom  are  estimable  Americans, 
friends  of  Diaz,  starve  them  so  chronically  that  they 
have  not  the  actual  strength  to  work  effectively.  Thus 
we  have  a second  reason  why  Mexicans  sometimes 


326 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


“soldier”  on  the  job.  Worthless,  worthless  Mexicans! 
Virtuous,  virtuous  Americans ! 

The  American  promoter  feels  a personal  grievance 
at  the  religious  bigotry  of  the  poor  Mexican.  It  is  be- 
cause of  the  church  fiestas , which  give  the  Mexican  a 
few  extra  holidays  a month,  when  he  is  free  to  take 
them.  Profits  are  lost  on  those  fiesta  days;  hence  the 
anguish  of  the  American  promoter.  Hence  the  wel- 
come which  the  American  gives  to  a system  of  labor 
such  as  we  find  in  Valle  Nacional,  where  the  cane  of 
bcjvco  wood  is  mightier  than  the  priest,  where  there 
are  neither  feast  days  nor  Sundays,  nor  any  days  when 
the  club  does  not  drive  the  slave  to  the  back-breaking 
labor  of  the  field. 

“They  told  us  labor  was  cheap  down  here,”  an  Amer- 
ican once  said  to  me  in  a grieved  tone.  “Cheap?  Of 
course.  Dirt  cheap.  But  it  has  its  drawbacks.”  He 
expected  every  “hand”  to  do  as  much  work  as  an  able- 
bodied  American  and  to  live  on  thin  air  besides ! 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  express  approval  of  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Catholic  church  upon  the  Mexican.  Yet  it 
must  be  admitted  that  the  church  alleviates  his  misery 
somewhat  by  providing  him  with  some  extra  holidays. 
And  it  feeds  his  hunger  for  sights  of  beauty  and  sounds 
of  sweetness,  which  for  the  poor  Mexican  are  usually 
impossible  of  attainment  outside  of  a church.  If  the 
rulers  of  the  land  had  been  enlightened  and  had  given 
the  Mexican  the  barest  glimpse  of  brightness  outside  of 
the  church  the  sway  of  the  priest  might  have  been  less 
pronounced  than  it  is  today. 

Those  fiestas  which  are  such  a thorn  in  the  side  of 
the  American  promoter  are  useful  to  him  at  least  in 
that  they  furnish  him  with  an  excuse  for  paying  the 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


327 


wage-worker  so  little  that  it  is  an  extravagance,  indeed, 
for  the  latter  to  take  a day  off.  “They’re  so  improvident 
that  I have  to  keep  them  at  the  starvation  point  or  they 
won’t  work  at  all.”  You’ll  hear  Americans  saying  that 
almost  any  day  in  Mexico.  In  illustration  of  which 
numerous  stories  are  virtuously  recounted. 

Improvident!  Yes,  the  starving  Mexican  is  improvi- 
dent. He  spends  his  money  to  keep  from  starving! 
Yes,  there  are  cases  where  he  is  paid  such  munificent 
wages  that  he  is  able  to  save  a centavo  now  and  then 
if  he  tries.  And,  trying,  he  finds  that  providence  boots 
him  nothing.  He  finds  that  the  moment  he  gets  a few 
dollars  ahead  he  at  once  becomes  a mark  for  every 
grafting  petty  official  within  whose  ken  he  falls.  If  the 
masters  of  Mexico  wished  their  slaves  to  be  provident 
they  should  give  them  an  opportunity  to  get  something 
ahead  and  then  guarantee  not  to  steal  it  back  again. 

The  poor  Mexican  is  accused  of  being  an  inveterate 
thief.  The  way  a Mexican  laborer  will  accept  money 
and  then  try  to  run  away,  instead  of  working  for  the 
rest  of  his  life  to  pay  off  the  debt,  is,  indeed,  enough 
to  bring  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  American  grinder  of 
enganchados.  The  American  promoter  steals  the  very 
life  blood  of  the  laborer  and  then  expects  the  latter  to 
be  so  steeped  in  virtue  as  to  refrain  from  stealing  any 
part  of  it  back  again.  When  a Mexican  peon  sees  a 
trinket  or  a pretty  thing  that  takes  his  fancy  he  is  quite 
likely  to  steal  it,  for  it  is  the  only  way  he  can  get  it. 
He  risks  jail  for  an  article  worth  a few  centavos.  How 
often  would  he  do  it  if  the  payment  of  those  few  cen- 
tavos would  not  mean  a hungry  day  for  him?  Amer- 
ican planters  steal  laborers,  carry  them  away  by  force 
to  their  plantations,  steal  their  families  away  from  them, 


328 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


lock  them  up  at  night,  beat  them,  starve  them  while  they 
work,  neglect  them  w'hen  they  are  sick,  pay  them  noth- 
ing, kill  them  at  the  last,  and  then  raise  their  hands  in 
righteous  horror  when  a poor  fellow  steals  an  extra 
tortilla  or  an  ear  of  corn ! 

In  Mexico  plowing  is  often  done  with  a crooked  stick 
or  with  the  hoe.  The  backs  of  men  take  the  place  of 
freight  wagons  and  express  vehicles.  In  short,  Mexico 
is  woefully  behind  in  the  use  of  modern  machinery. 
For  which  the  Mexican  is  accused  of  being  unprogres- 
sive. 

But  the  common  people  do  not  choose  how  much 
machinery  shall  be  used  in  the  country.  The  master 
does  that.  American  promoters  in  Mexico  are  little 
more  progressive  in  the  use  of  machinery  than  are  Mex- 
ican promoters,  and  when  they  are  they  frequently  lose 
money  by  it.  Why  ? Because  flesh  and  blood  are 
cheaper  in  Mexico  than  machinery.  A peon  is  cheaper 
to  own  than  a horse.  A peon  is  cheaper  than  a plow. 
A hundred  women  can  be  bought  for  the  price  of  a 
grist  mill.  It  is  because  the  master  has  made  it  so.  If 
by  some  means  the  price  of  flesh  and  blood  were  sud- 
denly to  be  shoved  up  above  that  of  dead  steel,  machin- 
ery would  flow  into  Mexico  as  fast  as  it  would  flow 
into  any  new  industrial  field  in  the  United  States  or  any 
other  country. 

Do  not  think  that  the  Mexican  is  too  stupid  to  oper- 
ate machinery  when  he  is  put  to  it.  There  are  some 
lines  in  which  machine  labor  is  cheaper  than  hand  labor 
and  we  have  only  to  look  to  these  lines  to  learn  that  the 
Mexican  can  handle  machinery  quite  as  easily  as  any 
other  people.  Native  labor  operates  the  great  cotton 
mills  of  Mexico  almost  exclusively,  for  example.  For 
that  matter,  mechanical  cunning  of  a high  order  is  shown 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


329 


in  the  many  hand  arts  and  crafts  practiced  by  the  na- 
tives, the  blanket  weaving,  the  pottery  making,  the  mak- 
ing of  laces,  the  manufacture  of  curios. 

Ignorance  is  charged  against  the  Mexican  people  as 
if  it  were  a crime.  On  the  other  hand,  we  are  told,  in 
glowing  terms  of  the  public  school  system  which  Diaz 
has  established.  Charles  F.  Lummis  in  his  book  on  Mex- 
ico remarks  that  it  is  doubtful  if  there  is  a single  hamlet 
of  one  hundred  Mexicans  in  all  the  country  that  has  not 
its  free  public  school.  The  truth  is  that  the  people 
are  ignorant  and  that  there  are  few  schools.  The  sort 
of  authority  Mr.  Lummis  is  may  be  gauged  by  the  gov- 
ernment statistics  themselves,  which,  in  the  year  Mr. 
Lummis  issued  his  book,  placed  the  number  of  Mexi- 
cans who  could  read  and  write  at  sixteen  per  cent  of  the 
population.  In  Mexico  there  are  some  public  schools 
in  the  cities  and  almost  none  in  the  country  districts. 
But  even  if  they  were  there,  can  a hungry  baby  learn 
to  read  and  write?  What  promise  does  study  hold  out 
for  a youth  born  to  shoulder  a debt  of  his  father  and 
carry  it  on  to  the  end  of  his  days? 

And  they  say  the  Mexican  is  happy!  “As  happy  as 
a peon,”  has  come  to  be  a common  expression.  Can  a 
starving  man  be  happy?  Is  there  any  people  on  earth — 
any  beast  of  the  field,  even — so  peculiar  of  nature  that 
it  loves  cold  better  than  warmth,  an  empty  stomach  bet- 
ter than  a full  one  ? Where  is  the  scientist  that  has  dis- 
covered a people  who  would  choose  an  ever  narrowing 
horizon  to  an  ever  widening  one  ? Depraved  indeed  are 
the  Mexican  people  if  they  are  happy.  But  I do  not  be- 
live  they  are  happy.  Some  who  have  said  it  lied  know- 
ingly. Others  mistook  the  dull  glaze  of  settled  despair 
for  the  signature  of  contentment. 

Most  persistent  of  all  derogations  of  Mexicans  is  the 


330 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


one  that  the  Spanish-American  character  is  somehow 
incapable  of  democracy  and  therefore  needs  the  strong 
hand  of  a dictator.  Since  the  Spanish-Americans  of 
Mexico  have  never  had  a fair  trial  at  democracy,  and 
since  those  who  are  asserting  that  they  are  incapable  of 
democracy  are  just  the  ones  who  are  trying  hardest  to 
prevent  them  from  having  a trial  at  democracy,  the 
suspicion  naturally  arises  that  those  persons  have  an  ul- 
terior motive  in  spreading  such  an  impression.  That 
motive  has  been  pretty  well  elucidated  in  previous  chap- 
ters of  this  book,  especially  in  the  one  on  the  American 
partners  of  Diaz. 

The  truth  of  the  whole  malignment  of  Mexicans  as 
a people  seems  very  plain.  It  is  a defense  against  in- 
defensible conditions  whereby  the  defenders  are  profit- 
ing. It  is  an  excuse — an  excuse  for  hideous  cruelty,  a 
salve  to  the  conscience,  an  apology  to  the  world,  a de- 
fense against  the  vengeance  of  eternity. 

The  truth  is  that  the  Mexican  is  a human  being  and 
that  he  is  subject  to  the  same  evolutionary  laws  of 
growth  as  are  potent  in  the  development  of  any  other 
people.  The  truth  is  that,  if  the  Mexican  does  not  fully 
measure  up  to  the  standard  of  the  highest  type  of  Euro- 
pean, it  is  because  of  his  history,  a most  influential  part 
of  which  is  the  grinding  exploitation  to  which  he  is  sub- 
jected under  the  present  regime  in  Mexico.  Let  us  go 
back  to  the  beginning  and  glance  briefly  at  the  Mexican 
as  an  ethnological  being  and  compare  his  abilities  and 
possibilities  with  that  of  the  “free”  American. 

While  nearly  all  persons  of  more  than  primary  educa- 
tion nominally  accept  the  theory  of  evolution  as  the  cor- 
rect interpretation  of  life  upon  this  planet,  not  so  many 
of  us  take  advantage  of  its  truths  in  estimating  the  peo- 
ple about  us.  We  cling,  instead,  to  the  old  error  of  ex- 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


331 


istence  by  special  creation,  which  supports  us  when  we 
wish  to  believe  that  some  men  are  created  of  superior 
clay,  that  some  are  inherently  better  than  others  and 
always  must  be  better,  that  some  are  designed  and  in- 
tended to  occupy  a station  of  special  rank  and  privilege 
among  their  fellow  men.  Forgotten  is  the  scientific 
truth  that  all  men  are  shoots  from  the  same  stalk,  that 
intrinsically  one  man  is  no  better  than  another,  that  in 
the  fulness  of  time  the  possibilities  of  one  race  or  people 
are  no  greater  than  those  of  any  other.  Whatever  differ- 
ences there  are  between  men  and  races  of  men  are  due, 
not  to  inherent  differences,  but  to  the  action  of  outside 
influences,  to  soil  and  climate,  to  temperature  and  rain- 
fall, and  to  what  may  be  denominated  the  accidents  of 
history  following  naturally,  however,  in  the  train  of 
these  influences.  “A  man’s  a man  for  a’  that  and  a’ 
that.” 

But  there  are  differences.  There  are  differences  in 
general  between  Americans  and  Mexicans.  Let  us  see 
if  there  are  any  differences  which  justify  the  condemna- 
tion of  Mexicans  to  slavery  and  government  by  a 
despot. 

What  is  a Mexican?  Usually  the  term  is  applied 
to  the  members  of  a mixed  race,  part  native  and  part 
Spanish,  who  predominate  in  the  so-called  sister  repub- 
lic. Pure  natives  who  long  ago  left  the  aboriginal  state 
are  also  often  included  in  the  category  and  they  seem 
to  have  a right  to  the  name.  In  the  government  cen- 
sus of  1900  the  proportion  of  races  is  given  as  43  per 
cent  mixed,  38  pure  native  and  19  of  European  or  dis- 
tinct f6reign  extraction.  The  Mexican  Year  Book 
thinks  that  the  proportion  of  mixed  peoples  has  greatly 
increased  in  the  past  ten  years  until  it  is  far  more  than 
half  the  total  today.  The  Mexican  of  today,  then,  is 


332 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


either  all  Spanish,  all  native,  or  a mixture  of  the  two, 
most  often  the  last;  so  the  peculiar  character  of  Mexi- 
cans can  be  said  to  be  made  up  of  a combination  of  the 
two  elements. 

Take  the  Spanish  element,  first.  What  are  the  pe- 
culiar attributes  of  the  Spanish  nature?  In  Spain  we 
find  much  art  and  literature,  but  on  the  other  hand, 
much  religious  bigotry  and  little  democracy.  We  find 
a versatile  people,  but  a people  with  swift  passions  and 
fickle  energies.  In  its  accomplishments  along  modern 
lines  Spain  stands  at  the  foot  of  the  countries  of  west- 
ern Europe. 

But — why  ? 

The  answer  is  to  the  credit  of  Spain.  Spain  sacrificed 
herself  to  save  Europe.  Standing  upon  the  southern 
frontier,  she  bore  the  brunt  of  the  Moslem  invasion. 
Retarding  the  barbarian  hordes,  she  saved  the  budding 
civilization  of  Europe  and  its  religion,  Christianity. 
Long  after  the  issue  was  settled  as  far  as  the  other  na- 
tions were  concerned,  Spain  was  still  engaged  in  that 
fight.  And  in  that  death-struggle  to  preserve  their  ex- 
istence, it  was  inevitable  that  the  power  of  the  State 
should  become  more  centralized  and  despotic,  that  the 
Church  should  come  into  closer  union  with  the  State, 
that  the  Church  should  become  more  unscrupulous  of 
the  methods  it  employed  to  annex  power  to  itself,  more 
sordid  of  gain,  more  dogmatic  in  its  teachings  and  more 
ruthless  in  the  treatment  of  its  enemies. 

Thus  is  revealed  the  prime  cause  for  Spain’s  position 
as  a laggard  in  the  path  of  democracy  and  religious  en- 
lightenment. For  the  rest,  it  may  be  said  that,  while  the 
magnificent  scenery  of  the  country  has  helped  to  make 
the  Spaniard  superstitious,  it  has  also  helped  to  make 
him  an  artist;  that  while  the  exuberance  of  the  soil  by 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


333 


enabling  him  to  secure  his  living  with  comparatively  lit- 
tle labor,  has  not  forced  him  to  habits  of  such  regular 
industry  as  are  found  farther  north,  it  has  contributed 
to  his  cultivating  the  arts  of  music,  painting  and  social 
intercourse;  that  the  heat  of  the  summer,  by  rendering 
hard  labor  at  that  season  inadvisable,  has  also  militated 
toward  the  same  ends. 

Of  course  I am  not  attempting  to  go  into  details  on 
these  matters.  I am  merely  pointing  out  a few  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  racial  diversities.  On  the  whole, 
a close  examination  of  the  Spanish  people  would  show 
that  there  is  nothing  whatsoever  to  indicate  that  they 
are  specially  unfit  or  unworthy  to  enjoy  the  blessings 
of  democracy. 

As  to  the  native  element,  which  is  more  important,  in- 
asmuch as  it  undoubtedly  predominates  in  the  make-up 
of  the  average  Mexican,  especially  the  Mexican  of  the 
poorer  class,  an  examination  of  its  peculiar  character 
will  prove  quite  as  favorable.  Biologically,  the  aboriginal 
Mexican  is  not  to  be  classed  with  any  of  the  so-called 
lower  races,  such  as  the  negro,  the  South  Sea  Islander, 
the  pure  Filipino,  or  the  American  Indian.  The  Aztec 
has  been  a long  time  out  of  the  forest.  His  facial  angle 
is  as  good  as  our  own.  In  many  ways  he  measures  up 
to  us.  In  some  ways  perhaps  he  even  surpasses  us, 
while  the  ways  in  which  he  falls  below  us  can  all  be 
traced  either  to  peculiar  external  influences,  or  the  luck 
of  history,  or  both. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Mexico  is  not  quite  as  well 
favored  for  the  generation  of  physical  and  mental  en- 
ergy as  is  the  great  portion  of  the  United  States.  The 
bulk  of  the  population  of  Diaz-land  lives  upon  a pla- 
teau ranging  from  5,000  to  8,000  feet  high.  Here  the 
air  is  thinner  and  for  every  foot-pound  of  energy  ex- 


334 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


pended  there  is  a greater  tax  upon  the  heart  and  the 
human  machine  generally.  Americans  who  take  up  their 
residence  on  that  plateau  find  that  they  must  live  a lit- 
tle more  slowly  than  in  this  country,  that  it  is  better 
to  take  the  mid-day  siesta,  like  the  Mexicans.  If  they 
persist  in  keeping  up  the  old  gait  they  find  that  they 
grow  old  very  fast,  that  it  does  not  pay.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  choose  to  live  in  the  tropical  belt  they 
find  that  here,  too,  because  of  the  greater  heat  and 
moisture,  it  is  not  wise  for  them  to  work  as  fast  as 
they  were  wont  to  do  at  home. 

If  the  average  Mexican  has  less  working  capacity 
than  the  average  American  it  is  largely  for  this  reason, 
and  for  the  other  reason  that  the  Mexican  laborer  is 
invariably  half  starved.  When  the  American  laborer 
meets  the  Mexican  on  the  latter’s  own  ground  he  is  quite 
often  outdone.  Few  Americans  engage  in  physical  la- 
bor either  on  the  plateau  or  in  the  tropics.  The  laborer 
of  no  nation  can  outdo  the  Mexican  in  carrying  heavy 
loads  or  in  feats  of  endurance,  while  in  the  tropics  the 
Mexican,  if  he  is  not  starved,  is  supreme.  The  Ameri- 
can negro,  the  Asiatic  coolie,  the  athletic  Yaqui  from  the 
north,  have  all  been  tried  out  against  the  native  of  the 
tropical  states  and  all  have  been  found  wanting,  while 
there  is  no  question  as  to  the  inferiority  of  the  working 
capacity  of  men  of  European  descent  under  tropical 
conditions. 

So  much  for  the  working  capacity  of  Mexicans,  which, 
in  this  extremely  utilitarian  age,  is  placed  high  among 
the  virtues  of  a people.  As  to  intelligence,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  it  was  always  the  policy  of  the  Spanish 
conquerers  to  hold  the  native  Aztecs  in  subordinate  po- 
sitions, enough  of  the  latter  have  succeeded  in  forcing 
their  way  to  the  top  to  prove  that  they  were  quite  as 


WOOD  CARRIERS,  CITY  OF  MEXICO.  “A  MEXICAN  LABORER  IS 


cheaper  than  a horse 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


335 


capable  in  the  higher  functions  of  civilization  as  the 
Spaniards  themselves.  The  most  brilliant  poets,  artists, 
writers,  musicians,  men  of  science,  military  heroes  and 
constructive  statesmen  in  the  history  of  Mexico  were 
natives  pure  or  natives  but  faintly  crossed  with  the  blood 
of  Spain. 

On  the  whole,  the  Mexicans  seem  to  exhibit  stronger 
artistic  and  literary  tendencies  than  we  and  less  inclina- 
tion toward  commerce  and  heavy  mechanics.  The  mass 
of  the  people  are  illiterate,  but  that  does  not  mean  that 
they  are  stupid.  There  are  undoubtedly  several  million 
Americans  who  are  able  to  read  but  who  don’t  read  reg- 
ularly, not  even  a newspaper,  and  they  are  no  better  in- 
formed, perhaps,  and  certainly  no  clearer  thinkers,  than 
the  peons  who  pass  the  news  of  the  day  from  mouth 
to  mouth  on  their  Sundays  and  their  feast  days.  That 
these  people  are  illiterate  by  choice,  that  they  are  poor 
because  they  w-  ut  to  be,  that  they  prefer  dirt  to  clean- 
liness, is  absurd. 

“They  choose  that  sort  of  life,  so  why  should  we 
bother  ourselves  about  their  troubles?”  “They  could 
improve  their  condition  if  they  cared  to  make  an  effort.” 
“They  are  perfectly  happy,  anyhow.”  Such  expres- 
sions are  sure  to  greet  the  traveler  who  remarks  upon 
the  misery  of  the  common  Mexican.  The  fact  is,  the 
ordinary  Mexican  chooses  the  life  he  lives  about  as 
nearly  so  as  a horse  chooses  to  be  born  a horse.  As  I 
suggested  before,  he  cannot  be  happy,  for  no  starving 
being  can  be  happy.  While  as  to  improving  his  condi- 
tion alone  and  unaided  he  has  about  as  much  chance  of 
doing  it  as  a horse  has  of  inventing  a flying  machine. 

Pick  up  a poor  young  Mexican  in  Mexico  City,  for 
example,  where  the  opportunities  are  the  best  in  the 
land.  Take  a typical  Mexican  laborer.  He  cannot  read 


336 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


or  write  because  he  was  probably  born  in  a country 
district  ten  miles  from  the  nearest  school,  or  if  he  was 
born  in  the  shadow  of  a public  school  he  literally  had 
to  scratch  the  earth  from  the  time  he  could  crawl  in 
order  to  get  something  to  eat.  He  has  no  education  and 
no  special  training  of  any  kind  because  he  has  had  no 
opportunity  to  secure  either.  Having  had  no  special 
training  all  he  is  able  to  do  is  to  carry  heavy  loads. 

Probably  at  twenty-five  he  is  a physical  wreck  from 
under-feeding,  exposure  and  overwork.  But  suppose 
he  is  one  of  the  few  who  has  kept  his  strength.  What 
can  he  do?  Carry  more  heavy  loads;  that  is  all.  He 
can  get  perhaps  fifty  cents  a day  carrying  heavy  loads 
and  all  the  effort  of  a Hercules  cannot  better  the  price, 
for  all  he  has  is  brawn,  and  brawn  is  cheap  as  dirt  in 
Mexico.  I have  seen  men  “making  an  effort.”  I have 
seen  them  work  until  I could  see  the  glazing  of  their  eyes, 
I have  seen  them  put  forth  such  efforts  that  their  chests 
rose  and  fell  with  explosive  gasps,  I have  seen  them 
carry  such  heavy  weights  that  they  tottered  and  fell  in 
the  street,  in  which  way  they  are  crushed  to  death,  some- 
times, by  the  thing  above  them.  They  were  putting 
forth  their  best  efforts  in  the  only  thing  they  knew  be- 
cause they  had  never  had  an  opportunity  to  learn  any- 
thing else,  and  they  were  dying  just  as  fast  as  those 
others  who  did  as  little  as  possible  to  live.  The  point 
is  that  they  never  enjoyed  the  opportunities  at  the  start 
that  we  accept  as  a birthright.  Imagine,  if  you  can, 
the  majority  of  our  American  schools  being  suddenly 
swept  away,  imagine  a change  from  your  condition  of 
partial  work  partial  leisure  to  one  of  all  work  and  no 
leisure,  imagine  your  earning  power  as  insufficient  to 
feed  any  mouth  but  your  own,  imagine  each  mouth  in 
the  family  needing  a separate  pair  of  hands  to  feed  it 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


337 


and  each  new  mouth  needing  its  own  hands  while  they 
are  yet  the  soft  hands  of  a baby — imagine  these  things 
and  you  may  faintly  appreciate  the  difficulties  which  the 
common  Mexican  encounters  in  trying  to  improve  his 
condition.  For  all  practical  purposes  they  are  insur- 
mountable. 

And  how  about  the  capacity  of  Mexicans  for  democ- 
racy? The  assertion  that  democracy  is  not  compatible 
with  “the  Spanish-American  character’’  seems  to  be 
based  wholly  upon  the  fact  that  a considerable  percent- 
age of  the  Spanish-American  countries — though  not  all 
of  them — are  still  ruled  by  dictators,  and  that  changes 
in  the  government  come  only  through  revolutions  by 
which  one  dictator  is  succeeded  by  another.  This  state 
of  affairs  was  brought  about  by  the  peculiar  history  of 
these  countries  rather  than  by  “the  Spanish-American 
character.”  Ruled  as  slave  colonies  by  foreigners,  these 
countries  asserted  enough  valor  and  patriotism  to  over- 
throw the  foreigner  and  expel  him.  Their  struggle  for 
freedom  was  long  and  bitter;  moreover,  being  small  coun- 
tries, their  national  existence  was  in  danger  for  con- 
siderable periods  after  their  independence.  Therefore, 
of  necessity  the  military  calling  became  a dominent  pro- 
fession and  militarism  and  dictatorships  followed  nat- 
urally. Today  what  Spanish-American  countries  as  are 
still  ruled  by  dictators  are  ruled  by  dictators  largely  be- 
cause of  the  support  accorded  the  latter  by  foreign  gov- 
ernments, which  oppose  democratic  movements  some- 
times even  with  arms.  Diaz  is  not  the  only  Spanish- 
American  dictator  who  is  supported  by  the  United  States 
at  the  behest  of  Wall  street.  During  the  past  five  years 
several  of  the  most  notorious  of  the  Central  American 
dictators  have  been  held  in  their  places  only  by  a mili- 
tary demonstration  on  the  part  of  this  country. 


338 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


But  is  Mexico  ready  for  democracy?  Does  she  not 
need  to  be  ruled  by  a despot  for  awhile  longer,  until  such 
a time  as  she  shall  have  developed  capacity  for  democ- 
racy? I repeat  this  absurd  question  only  because  it  is  so 
common.  The  only  reasonable  reply  is  that  of  Macau- 
lay, that  capacity  for  democracy  can  omy  increase  with 
experience  with  the  problems  of  democracy.  Mexico  is 
as  ready  for  democracy  as  a country  can  be  which  has 
no  democracy  whatsoever.  There  is  t o chance  of  Mex- 
ico having  complete  democracy  at  ihis  time.  These 
things  come  only  gradually,  and  there  is  no  danger  what- 
soever of  her  suddenly  getting  more  democracy  than  is 
good  for  her.  Who  will  say  that  Mexico  should  not 
at  once  have  just  a little  democracy,  enough,  say,  to  de- 
liver her  people  from  the  mire  of  slavery  and  peonage? 

Assuredly  Mexico  is  behind  us  in  the  march  of  prog- 
ress, behind  us  in  the  conquests  of  democracy.  But,  in 
considering  her,  be  just  and  consider  what  the  luck  of 
history  gave  us  in  comparison  to  what  it  gave  the  Mex- 
ican. We  were  lucky  enough  not  to  have  the  rule  of 
Spain  imposed  upon  us  for  300  years.  We  were  lucky 
enough  to  escape  the  clutch  of  the  Catholic  church  at 
our  throats  in  our  infancy.  Finally,  we  were  lucky 
enough  not  to  be  caught  in  our  weakness  at  the  end  of 
a foreign  war,  caught  by  one  of  our  own  generals,  who, 
in  the  guise  of  president  of  our  republic,  quietly  and 
cunningly,  with  the  cunning  of  a genius  and  the  re- 
morselessness of  an  assassin,  built  up  a repressive  ma- 
chine such  as  no  modern  nation  has  ever  been  called 
upon  to  break.  We  were  lucky  enough  to  escape  the 
reign  of  Porfirio  Diaz. 

Thus,  whichever  way  we  turn,  we  come  finally  back 
to  the  fact  that  the  immediate  cause  of  all  the  ills,  the 
shortcomings,  the  vices  of  Mexico  is  the  system  of  Diaz. 


THE  MEXICAN  PEOPLE 


339 


Mexico  is  a wonderful  country.  The  capacity  of  its 
people  is  beyond  question.  Once  its  republican  consti- 
tution is  restored,  it  will  be  capable  of  solving  all  its 
problems.  Perhaps  it  will  be  said  that  in  opposing  the 
system  of  Diaz  I am  opposing  the  interests  of  the  United 
States.  If  the  interests  of  Wall  Street  are  the  interests 
of  the  United  States,  then  I plead  guilty.  And  if  it  is 
to  the  interests  of  the  United  Stab's  that  a nation  should 
be  crucified  as  Mexico  is  being  crucified,  then  I am 
opposed  to  the  interests  of  the  United  States. 

But  I do  not  believe  that  this  is  so.  For  the  sake  of 
the  ultimate  interests  of  this  country,  for  the  sake  of 
humanity,  for  the  sake  of  the  millions  of  Mexicans  who 
are  actually  starving  at  this  moment,  I believe  that  the 
Diaz  system  should  be  abolished  and  abolished  quickly. 

Hundreds  of  letters  have  come  to  me  from  all  over  the 
world  begging  to  know  what  can  be  done  to  put  a stop 
to  the  slavery  of  Mexico.  Armed  intervention  of  foreign 
powers  has  been  suggested  again  and  again.  This  is  un- 
necessary as  well  as  impractical.  But  there  is  one  thing 
that  is  practical  and  necessary,  especially  for  Americans, 
and  that  is  to  insist  that  there  shall  be  no  foreign  inter- 
vention for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  slavery. 

In  Mexico  today  exists  a nation-wide  movement  to 
abolish  the  Diaz  system  of  slavery  and  autocracy.  This 
movement  is  quite  capable  of  solving  the  problems  of 
Mexico  without  foreign  interference.  So  far  it  has  not 
succeeded,  partly  because  of  the  assistance  our  govern- 
ment has  given  in  the  persecution  of  some  of  its  leaders, 
and  partly  because  of  Diaz’s  threat — constantly  held  be- 
fore the  Mexican  people — of  calling  an  American  army 
to  his  aid  in  case  of  a serious  revolution  against  him. 

Under  the  present  barbarous  government  there  is  no 
hope  for  reform  in  Mexico  except  through  armed  revo- 


J40 


BARBAROUS  MEXICO 


lution.  Armed  revolution  on  the  part  of  the  decent 
and  most  progressive  element  is  l strong  probability 
of  the  early  future.  When  the  revolution  starts 
American  troops  will  be  rushed  to  the  border  and 
made  ready  to  cross  in  case  Diaz  is  unable  to 
cope  with  the  revolt  alone.  If  the  American  army  crosses 
it  will  not  be  ostensibly  to  protect  Diaz,  but  to 
protect  American  property  and  American  lives.  And  to 
this  end  false  reports  of  outrages  upon  Americans,  or 
danger  to  American  women  and  children,  will  be  delib- 
erately circulated  in  order  to  arouse  the  nation  to  justify 
the  crime  of  invasion.  That  will  be  the  time  for  decent 
Americans  to  make  their  voices  heard.  They  will  expose, 
in  no  uncertain  terms,  the  conspiracy  against  democracy 
and  demand  that,  for  all  time,  our  government  cease  put- 
ting the  machinery  of  state  at  the  disposal  of  the  despot 
to  help  him  crush  the  movement  for  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  Mexico. 


